Operation: FLIRT!
by AkashaAvani
Summary: Kurt moves on. At least, he wants to. But when Blaine keeps tugging him back, it's up to the Warblers loyal to Kurt to help set him up with someone who's head over heels for Kurt-but too shy to say so. It's time for the rise of the FLIRT! Kurt/Flint
1. Chapter 1: BIOTA Part I

_**A/N: **So, when I was writing this, I kept telling myself I wasn't ACTUALLY doing this! I wasn't going to do this, goll darnit! I already had a Kavid fic that I had JUST started, but the lure of THE FLIRT is too much for my poor little heart. They're too cute. Especially if you have Jon Hall as Flint instead of Luke Edgemon. No offense to the latter, but let's face it. The picture of Jon and Chris onstage, with someone captioning, 'pretty sure the astronauts can see your crush, Jon,' is just... jfdkfjsa;ksj wonderful. That right there was the original soul squee. I'm such a nerd. :3 _

_Anyway! I ended up putting this up after asking if people would like to read it... so! Here we are! ^^ Another FLIRT goin down. This starts just after BIOTA, and goes PHEW! AU out the window. Seriously, anything that happens in April will probably NOT be in this... yeah. It'll be going, going, GONE, it'll probably be that far AU. Just a heads up! ^^ Enjoy the ride!  
_

_Dislcaimer: The usual! I own nothing of glee or ryan murphy or two particularly sexy boys. I own a mountain of chocolate and books. Is that like the female version of a guy substituting a car for his... I'll leave it at that. :D  
_

_

* * *

_

Flint looked up from his conversation with Ben—a conversation that was probably nerdy enough to be embarrassing, but as both of them were ridiculously nerdy, everything was okay—and noticed a feminine gait entering the commons. It was early morning on Sunday, so only those boarding from families too far away to visit were here. Except... now Kurt had arrived, and didn't Kurt have family nearby? Okay, bad question. Flint already knew the answer to it. _Yes_, Kurt did have family nearby. A family Kurt was very close to, actually.

And why did Flint know this? Because he had a giganta-normous, flaming panda crush on Kurt. Not that flaming pandas had anything to do with Kurt. Or anything, really. But it seemed better than admitting to a pink elephant crush. That was just too weird.

_ Moving on_.

He watched as Kurt hefted his bag over his shoulder more securely, not looking up at all. He looked miserable. As in, more miserable than he already was since transferring. Flint had noticed that Kurt didn't have a spark of a personality—he was a firework all by himself. And he wasn't just saying that because the first time Flint had seen him had been when they were singing a Katy Perry song.  
Flint internally groaned. He was such a stalker/creep.

"He looks horrible," Ben commented, his voice concerned. Ben had one of those personalities where he could be serious one moment, and sassy the next. Their conversation had been about Harry Potter pickup lines, for example. Some were a bit more... racy... than others, but some had been pure genius. But now, however, his face was completely serious, worried.

"Do you think someone should ask what's going on?" Flint looked from Kurt to Ben, unsure.

Ben rolled his eyes. "Does anyone even have to ask?" His tone was a little sharp, but as understanding dawned on Flint, he knew it wasn't sharp at Kurt. It was sharp at one Blaine Anderson, who everyone was a little short-tempered with, at the moment. The Warblers had enfolded Kurt into their wings after the GAP Attack, where Blaine had flaunted his crush and Kurt had supported him. Jeff, with his shock-and-not-so-awe of blond hair, and James, with his quick, mischievous grin, had practically kidnapped him afterwards, stuffing him with fries (which he had, of course, protested to) and a shake while they discussed extremely controversial subjects. Aka which comic character was better, which GQ was the best, and which actor was the best/hottest/all-around-_unf_tastic.

Kurt had won with Johnny Depp—Jack Sparrow. Half-mad, undeniably unhygienic, but still hot on so many levels.

James had come in a close second, though, with Joseph Gordon-Levitt, whose undeniably _awesome_ stunt during the revolving hallway scene of Inception had earned him the very close spot.

Flint's eyes widened as he looked back at Ben. "Didn't Blaine mention something about a party that one of the New Directions members was hosting?"

The green-eyed Warbler nodded. "I guess Blaine decided to turn a blind eye to Kurt again." His tone said that he was _not_ pleased with the lead singer for this.

"I don't get it. How can Kurt still like him? He's an asshat."

"Yes, but he's a charming, charismatic asshat. So he gets away with more than an ordinary one."

"But he shouldn't use Kurt like that. It's like he leads him on, then goes off in a different direction, but the second Kurt starts to change his feelings, he's back and dragging him under again."

"You know this, and I know this, but..." he let it drop as their topic subject walked by them. "Kurt," Ben said cheerfully, serious face gone. "Flint and I were hoping you could answer something for us." While Kurt's eyes were on Ben, Flint subtly made cut-throat-silence-you-idiot motion. "Would a Harry Potter pickup line work on someone as fashion-astute as you?"

The sad air around Kurt couldn't last around Ben's cherub-like enthusiasm. "Depends... How far into the realm of nerd do they go?"

"All the way."

Flint choked on air.

"Then absolutely."

Flint was dying now. Kurt patted him on the back in what was probably a heavy way for him, but felt like a tap dancing bird to Flint's much larger build. "Breathe, Flint. I hear it's necessary."

"Trying," Flint wheezed. He glared at Ben, who simply grinned.

"I didn't realize Harry Potter had such an effect on you," Kurt teased. Dammit, Ben was going to _die_ for this.

"Oh, it's not that, I'm sure." Ben looked at Kurt's bag as if he had only just noticed it. "Why are you back so early?"

Flint amended himself. Ben was going to die _slowly_.

Kurt's gaze grew sad again. "Ah, well, party gone bad. I didn't drink, but watching others get wasted was not my cup of coffee."

Ah. So Blaine had gotten hammered, done something stupid and insensitive, and left Kurt to pick up the pieces. "Your dad okay with it?" Flint asked, knowing how close Burt was to his son. It was legend here at Dalton, ever since moving in day for the newest Warbler.

Kurt's face twisted. "Oh, he was fine with it."

"Then why the frustration?" Ben asked kindly.

"Blaine was one of nearly everyone who decided to hit the alcohol, so I figured he probably shouldn't drive home, so he crashed at my place, and—"

"Your dad saw and flipped a gasket?" Flint winced as Kurt nodded to his question. "Ouch."

"Blaine do anything funny to make it worthwhile?" Ben asked and used his mystic mental jaws-of-life powers. Before anyone knew it, they would open up and spill the beans to Ben. He was just a mother-hen-problem-solver like that.

Now an eyeroll. "Except for sucking face with Rachel Berry, no. So I had to apologize for having a gay boy in my bed, when said gay boy is apparently not so gay after all."

Kurt's listeners looked to each other, both thinking how much they'd like to have a flaming tirade at the offending lead singer.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I said any of that. It must sound like bitchy gossip—"

"Breathe, Kurt. I hear it's necessary." Flint smiled widely. "Chill. We're pissed at Anderson, not you."

"He seems to have a remarkable ability for using you, lately." Ben's voice was cold.

"Using? How?"

"Oh, just getting you to help convince the council to sing off campus, then needing your support when he wants to chicken out last moment."

"And now with the macking out with a girl at a party that you brought him to. So he got free booze, probably songs, and kissed a girl... When he's gay. Oh, and then left you to scoop him up and take him home cause he was trashed." Flint's jaw ticked.

"That says using to me," Ben concluded. Flint nodded.

Kurt looked troubled. "Perhaps, but it's not like it's personal to him."

"Oh, it's personal," Jeff clapped Kurt's shoulder, startling him.

Kurt looked at the inseparable twins over his shoulders wildly. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Oh, enough to know we're going to switch out his gel with glue." James looked downright evil.

"Guys, honestly. It's not that big of a deal." He turned back to Ben and Flint, smiling a little. "I really appreciate you two letting me get all of that off my chest. But... I don't think he actually meant to 'use' me, so..." he shrugged. "Thank you, though, honestly. I'll catch you guys later?" They nodded, and the four of them watched while Kurt sashayed out.

"He's too frickin' nice." Jeff shook his head. "And is wasting that nice on Anderson."

Ben slid a look towards Flint, who was staring idly at the spot where Kurt had last been. "Flint here could probably do something about it."

Flint jumped, and turned a dull flaming red. "Shut up, alright? It's not happening. Get over it now."

He looked down at the table, suddenly bashful, while the other three shared meaningful looks. It was planning time. And with Ben behind the wheel, it was bound to succeed quickly.


	2. Chapter 2: BIOTA Part II

**_A/N: _**_So, I should probably explain who everyone is so far. Kurt Hummel... is Kurt Hummel. We already know this! :P _

_Flint Wilson: Jon Hall (sorry Luke, you've been overthrown! Jon's in WAY more pictures with Chris-I sense a broooomance! Or maybe it's a *gasp* ROmance?)_

_Ben Barnes: Dominic Barnes-and yes, I get how COMPLETELY unimaginative that is. :D I couldn't help myself. It's too easy. Dominic Barnes... Ben... BEN BARNES... too fun, too fun! And he's so **FIERCE!**_

_ AFTERNOTE: Glee has named him Trent. I like Ben better, though, so we're sticking with that. :D  
_

_Jeff: Riker Lynch (DAMN that boy is so adorable!)_

_James: James David (I'm sorry. Unoriginal. FAIL. But Jeff and James... come on! They're a matched pair here, people!)_

_Alex (Alexavier, teehee) Charleston: Nelson Beato (OMG That boy has fiiiiine lips. Mmm. Okay. Done. But did you see that cheeky smile, when his eyes shut and those DIMPLES. Okay, okay.)  
_

_Honestly, though, I'm pretty sure you could lump ALL of these boys under the apropos category of UNF. Cause every. single. one. of them are adorable. As in if you could just take a picture of all of them together with their best poses (Dom doing his soul sista _don't you mess with me, boo! _face!) hearts would spontaneously EXPLODE and melt at the same time, and souls all over would squee all over the place, and people would start dying from excessive rainbow puking. YES. THAT'S RIGHT. YOU HEARD ME! This is how much dfkjsf;lkadjslkjdsajghdsk! -ing there would be in that ONE. PICTURE. _

_n_n Hope you enjoy!  
_

* * *

Ben's plan had to wait until after Kurt got back from his coffee outing with Blaine to commence. Except no one—not even Ben, who was damn near _psychic_ at the moment—had foreseen Kurt coming back looking even more miserable than he had on Sunday.

Jeff was the first one to look up when Kurt came up the stairs. They had decided to play it cool, subtly herding Flint and Kurt closer and closer together, make it seem natural and all that. But scheming thoughts, even the subtle ones, flew out of Jeff's head when he saw how absolutely _depressed_ Kurt looked as he reached the second floor. His head was hanging down, his feet had a slight drag to them, and he looked almost like he was in shock, one loud sound away from breaking apart. Jeff bolted out of his seat and trotted over to Kurt, concern written all over his face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He ducked his head so his eyes could finally meet Kurt's.

"Nothing. Please leave me alone... for right now... I just need some time..." The countertenor's words were disjointed, and Jeff looked back sharply at the rest of the group. James' face had the starting of anger, Flint's hands were fidgeting with the bottom of his blazer, obviously wanting to comfort the smaller boy but unsure of whether or not that would cross a boundary, but Ben's face was the most expressive. His eyes were such a bright green, lit with anger and concern, almost maternal in the need to get back at whoever had made his duckling hurt so bad. He stood, all that instinct too much to ignore. He ignored Kurt when the slender boy tried to turn towards the hallway and escape the four boys descending upon him. Ben, in a very nonchalant, _don't even try to say no to me right now_ fashion, grabbed his hand and led him to the room Ben and Alex—the tall, curly, dark Warbler with the smile _everyone_ thought was too adorable for a straight male—shared. Since Alex was out with Adam doing god only knew what and where, the room was vacant for the much-needed talk. Still firmly guiding the smaller boy, he sat them both down on his bed and pulled Kurt's head onto his shoulder. "Alright, boy, tell me what happened. Let it out."

"I don't—I can't, can we just pretend it didn't happen?" Kurt's breath caught and his eyes shut tightly. Ben's arms came around his shoulders and held him tightly, giving Kurt the pressure he needed so he could break and still be kept together. The sobs that ripped through him echoed in the small room, twisting the guts of all its occupants. Kurt cried like there was so much it couldn't be contained by his too slender body anymore, like there was so much it was eating up his insides so it could have more room to take up.

Jeff and James came over and crawled onto the bed, Jeff behind the pair and James to the right, and wrapped their arms around him as well. Flint bit his lip, watching them and feeling like his entire being was being split in half. Half was miserable, feeling like each sob was tearing that half into even more little pieces, and the other was furious. No, not furious, something more than that. He wanted to beat whoever had caused this—okay, he already _knew _it was Anderson—and pummel their face until it was inverted. He wanted to Anderson to feel each little bit of pain that Kurt was in because of that... that... there wasn't a word low enough for the bastard.

Flint's fists clenched and released, clenched tighter and released with the same amount of ferocity, and his jaw ticked a serious staccato beat. Ben caught his eyes and motioned his head down, telling Flint to get over there and get in. Flint walked over with purposeful, heavy steps and looked down at the group, wanting to join in, but there was no more room. Jeff and James released the countertenor and scooted back. Flint didn't hesitate. He picked Kurt up, sat down in his spot and let his much larger body anchor the countertenor's. Then the arms were back, and Kurt was enveloped in supporting Warbler strength. Kurt burrowed himself into Flint and Ben, and his sobs eventually quited. When he at last sniffed and took a deep breath, the wonder twins released him and sat down on the floor next to the bed, looking up patiently. Kurt finally opened his eyes and blushed, finding himself on Flint's lap and clutching onto the beatboxing/bass Warbler and Ben, the mother-hen Warbler.

"You ready to tell us what happened now?" Ben asked calmly.

Kurt shook his head, but visibly resigned himself to the inevitable. Ben would open the door somehow, someway, and get him to spill the entire story, so he might as well embrace it now. "I-I-I tried to talk with Blaine."

"We had guessed that much," Jeff said in a quiet voice, and Kurt's eyes teared up again, his face turning red in his effort not to cry again. Flint scooted so he could set Kurt on the bed, firmly sandwiched between the two larger Warblers' bodies, in an attempt to help him feel more comfortable.

"I wanted to know why. Why Rachel? He keeps telling me he just wants to be friends, he's not ready for anything more, but then he sings for that tasteless, blond GAP worker who's not even _legal_ for him to date, and now Rachel? She was my friend, and then they're going on a date, and all I could think is, 'Oh my god, someone's going to get hurt,' but she's telling me that she's going to bring me down a notch, and he's telling me I'm just like Karofsky, and—"

"Wait, wait, who's Karofsky?" Jeff looked around, confused. Ben closed his eyes, and Flint got an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"He-he's the boy who bullied me. The gay-basher who turned out to be in the closet so firmly he's ready to explode everywhere like a CO2 cannon. The one who threw me into lockers and terrified me, the one Blaine told me to stand up to, so I did, and I confronted him, and he kissed me, and then he told me if I told anyone he'd kill me, and—"

There was a harsh, sucked in breath, and the room went deathly silent. "He threatened to kill you?" Kurt nodded silently at Flint's quiet question. Flint's body tensed, and his vision blurred. "Anderson compared you to someone who threatened to _kill _you?" Kurt nodded again.

Jeff and James bolted and scrambled to the door just in time for Flint to charge towards it, his eyes _frigid_ in a way that no one had ever seen. Flint was the type to laugh things off, the first to crack a joke in a tense situation, the one who made someone laugh when they were down. This Flint—silent and massive, walking with deadly purpose, his eyes so cold they were glaciers of such a dark brown they were black, completely hiding his pupils—was terrifying.

"Whoa, man, easy! Don't do anything you'll regret, okay? You pick a fight, and the admin's gonna kick you out faster than you can say, 'Die motherfucker,' got it?" Jeff hooked onto Flint's left, while James took his right, and together they locked arms and struggled to reverse the course of the Warbler's path.

"Get off," he warned in a quiet voice. "I'm going to make invert his face. He'll finally have the ability to keep his thoughts in his mind—the sound won't be able to travel past his pathetic excuse for a brain."

"Flint, please, stop!" Kurt's voice sank into the taller boy's brain, and he turned, looking much more enormous than he normally did with his back ramrod straight and icy fury radiating off him in waves. Blue-green eyes met black, the former wide and watery.

"He's a selfish bastard, Kurt. He's never though past his own world, his own thoughts and feelings, and he tramples all over yours. He plays the friend card real well, because he knows you'll always be there for him, but he has no problem spreading out in different directions."  
"Flint," Ben said, and though his voice wasn't cold, loud, firm, anything other than what it usually was, he had such power that it was enough to catch Flint's attention. "We know this, but hammering it into Kurt isn't what he needs right now. He needs for it to be explained slowly, because he's so close to the trauma right now."

"He's half in love with Anderson, Ben! He's half in love and the fucker's trampling all over him! The bastard has no thought for how he's hurting Kurt, and it makes me _sick_! All Blaine can think about it me, me, _fucking_ me, and—"

"We know that, but we've known him longer. He puts on a very nice boy face for the rest of the world, and it's hard to see past that, initially." Ben rubbed Kurt's back, turning his attention to the boy at his side. "What he said was horrible, Kurt. No one should be compared to their own bully, and in this case, it's especially wrong. He knew how much it would hurt you, Kurt, and he used it to make you the bad guy in this situation. You're not, though. You were trying to look out for your friends, and there's nothing wrong with that. You are a wonderful, brilliant, caring person, don't ever let someone convince you otherwise. You have one of the biggest hearts I've ever seen, and you care so much about others that you would rather suffer silently than let them get hurt. What Blaine said was completely wrong, Kurt."

Kurt teared up, and ducked his head down. His tears took Flint's anger right out of him, and he seemed to deflate, walking back over to the bed and sitting down. He took Kurt's hand, and held it tightly. "He was wrong, Kurt. He doesn't deserve to have a friend like you. Don't let him put off his own insecurities on you, don't let him squish who you are. You're perfect just the way you are."

Kurt's eyes whipped to his, startled and shocked and disbelieving, but when he saw the complete honesty and openness in Flint's brown eyes, when Flint looked so steadily and unafraid for Kurt to see everything he was actually saying, Kurt bit his lip and nodded.

"I think... I think you guys may be right. Maybe I didn't want to see it at first, but he just seemed so..."

"God-like?" James said, not mocking a single bit.

"We all thought so. We thought he was this short, adorable, wonderful little person when he first transferred. But when he finally became comfortable, he... well, you can see now that it only runs skin deep. He doesn't set out to manipulate people, but in the end, someone usually gets hurt, and he never notices." Ben's voice wasn't hateful, or malicious, but firm all the same. "Don't let him eat you up, Kurt. Don't let him change who you are. There are people here who appreciate you for being just the way you are."

"I always did love that song," Kurt mumbled, and the group chuckled.

"Good. You should listen to it more often." Flint squeezed Kurt's hand, and Kurt squeezed back.

"Thank you guys. All of you. I didn't realize I could have girl time without being drowned in estrogen."

Horrified laughter was shocked out of them. "I think I'll keep my balls, thank you very much!" Jeff sputtered, cupping himself.

"Dude, if you have to feel yourself up in public to reassure yourself they're still there, you have more problems with keeping them than you think." James gave Jeff a dubious look between his covered package and his face, back and forth.

"Shut up!" Jeff turned bright red, but kept his hands where they were. Ben rolled his eyes, and Kurt and Flint chuckled.

A knock on the door disturbed their enclosed little world. Alex peaked his curly head in, looking curiously at the room's occupants. "What's this all about?"

Ben rolled his eyes. "The idiocy of one Blaine Anderson."

Alex came in all the way now and made a long 'ahhh' sound. "I understand now. Yes, deceiving little bastard, isn't he?"

Kurt's eyes nearly bugged out of his head, and everyone else laughed.

"We weren't kidding, Kurt. Everyone is disappointed when they find out he's just another ordinary human being. It's a widespread despondency that usually only lingers for a few days, then turns into a dull memory." Ben smiled. "We're here for you, okay?"

Kurt nodded.

"And if you need us to run a bit of smoke for you, to give you some space to clear things up, no problem." Alex patted Kurt's knee before going to sit on his own bed, cross legged and eyes alert and caring. He reminded Kurt of a puppy in that moment, ears pricked forward and ready to defend or be playful.

"I think I'll take you up on that. I need... space... from him, or I might spontaneously burst into tears, or worse, blow up and start to throw everything he's done in his face."

"That might be fun to watch, actually!" James grinned, unrepentant.

"Yeah, but then Wes and The Gavel would have another PDA moment. And _none_ of us need to be reminded about how many implications that pops up." Ben's words caused everyone to choke on laughter.

Looking around, Kurt realized how truly wonderful it was to have these sort of friends. The ones who hugged you without worrying they might be seen hugging the gay boy, the ones who defended you no matter what, the ones who offered to be a smoke screen and protect you while you were feeling open and raw. Ones who charged for the door in a scary, quiet angry and announced they were going to beat someone's face in because they hurt you.

Friends who didn't deliberately shove the guy you liked, the guy that person was going to go on a date with, in your face. (Read: Friends NOT Rachel Berry-esque) Friends who didn't tell other friends of yours not to sing with you because you were gay and it might taint that person's reputation. Friends who it never even occurred to them to pick on you, bully you, friends who were _horrified_ at the thought of someone being mean to you.

Kurt rubbed at his eyes, and smiled.

"Thanks, guys."

Alex smiled cheekily, dimples flashing widely. "Aww, Kurt!" And bounced up to tackle Kurt with a hug, making the countertenor squeak and then laugh. Suddenly it was a free-for-all-on-Kurt, and he found himself in the middle of a multi-male-molestation, with arms everywhere as the others grouped in for a giant hug. Ben's soft, comforting warmth was to his right, Jeff to his right-back, James to his left-back, then Alex, afro'do Alexavier Charleston, whose oh-so-_not_-straight hair was currently trying to get in on the action, to his left. Leaving Flint, who was the tallest, laughing and reaching around half of them before squeezing them together so that Kurt made an 'aaaah!' face and tried to huddle closer in on himself. This just made Flint laugh all the harder, that dorky, adorable smile illuminating his face while Jeff and James decided to take revenge and try to tackle him. The three (sane) ones left sat on the bed, watching as the two shorter—but more determined—men tried to take the sturdily-built Warbler to the ground. Jeff finally decided to throw off the lady gloves, jumping on Alex's bed and then spring-boarding onto Flint's back, arms wrapped around his neck and legs scrambling for purchase in the air. James took full advantage of the sandy-blond's _holy shit!_ face, pile-driving the trio onto the bed and effectively squishing his partner in crime beneath Flint and himself. Jeff made a gagging sound as his insides were flattened, but the look on his face was even better.

Flint and James collapsed into full-blown laughter as the pair rolled opposite ways—Flint straight off the end of the bed, where he had the breath knocked out of him but kept wheezing anyway.

Kurt amended himself. He _really_ fucking loved having friends like these.

Insanity and all.


	3. Chapter 3: Sexy

Sexy? Really? Had they honestly just had that serious of a talk about his _inability _to pull of_ sexy_? Because while Kurt could pull off any style known to man(and several _not_ known to most men, obviously!) there was one thing Kurt could not pull off.

Fitting in _and_ looking sexy. It was hard enough trying to confirm himself into this pod person version of himself, but then Blaine goes and demands that Kurt be sexy as well, as if Kurt doesn't have any natural talent for it already? He was more than insulted. He was... there were no words for it. It was like telling Angelina Jolie to be sexy—bitch, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel was _always_ sexy! You just had to actually be _looking_ at him, which Blaine never did.

Kurt through his pillow across the room in frustration, though that didn't exactly help. His room was pretty small, the other bed only being about four feet from his.

He sighed, vexed. He was trying to be a good friend, honestly, he really was. He had apologized for not being more accepting of Blaine's little 'experiment' and had let it go-but it still hurt that Blaine hadn't even bothered to apologize for what _he_ had said to Kurt!

But he was letting it go. Blaine had been shaken, so it was understandable that he wouldn't remember everything he said. Right? Well, whatever. Moving on.

When Blaine had looked at Kurt and said, "Give me sultry," with that expectant look, Kurt had tried. He had tried so hard. But it was hard to feel sexy or sultry when the boy you liked—the boy you were _trying_ to get over—was staring at you asking you to be sexy, like the thought of you actually _being_ sexy had never occurred to him. _Like you were never sexy to begin with._

And for Kurt, who has spent _years _learning to feel confident and sexy in his own skin, each and every day... this was a big blow.

And then—and _then—_for_ someone_ to go to his dad and tell him that _he_ was worried because Kurt knew nothing about sex, leading to Kurt getting _The Talk_ on his weekend home!

This crossed so many lines.

And he. was. _furious_.

"Hey Kurt? You in here?" A curly head popped in, but this was the good sort of curly, as Alex popped into his room, hair bouncing adorably and dimples winking.

"Yeah. Sorry, I'm just...not in the best mood, I guess."

"Kurt, no one's in a good mood all the time. It's impossible."

"You seem to do a good job of it," Kurt quipped archly.

Alex shrugged. "Not always. I hate weekends. I'm miserable, then."

"Why?" Kurt's brow pinched sadly.

"Easy. I don't get to go home to my parents. It's probably why our group is such great friends. None of us have anyone to go home to on the weekends, when the place is all cleared out and quiet, so we usually clump together so it doesn't get too quiet. It's not that hard, actually, with Jeff and James making so much noise all the time!"

Kurt saw through his cheer, though, and nibbled on his lower lip while the thought. "You know, you guys could probably come over this weekend. I've actually never had a _guy_ night, so I'm sure it might weird my dad out, but after the initial awkward my-gay-son-is-having-a-sleepover-with-other-boys-they-must-be-having-an-orgy-in-his-room moment, I'm sure he'd be happy to have testosterone in the house for once!"

"Kurt, there's like... five, six, sometimes seven of us here on the weekends."

"Your point?"

"Wouldn't that be too many people for your room?"

Kurt arched his brow, making a classically sexy face worthy of Julie Andrews. "We just moved into a new house with an entire finished basement that's set up as our game room, requested by my video-game-addict brother Finn. And my parent's bedroom is all the way on the second floor. This may not sound like enough space to someone with your kind of money, but it's been proven to hold that many teenage boys on a weekend, trust me."

Alex laughed. "Well, in that case, I think we have to see where you live. It'll be an experience."

"Oh please. It's not like I live in poverty, Curly."

Alex grinned, but whatever he was about to say was interrupted by another knock on the door before Ben sailed in, smiling like always. "Ah, I see you started the party already!" He poked his head back out the door. "Ducklings, over here!" He sat on the bed opposite them, crossing his legs primly.

There were some choice words to be heard over his use of 'ducklings' in reference to 'fully grown men.'

To which Ben rolled his eyes. "_Please_," he said with a face that reminded Kurt of a caucasian male version of Mercedes' _bitch, please_ expression. "Only _one_ of you had finished growing—dear Warbler god, please let that boy have stopped growing—and while the word male applies, the word 'man' implies maturity. Which I assure you, not a single one of you has."

The three boy-men straggled in, laughing. Flint had his chest puffed out—he was undeniably the tallest of the group—but by the end of the sentence he was pouting and trying not to laugh. "Yes, mother," he droned, and rolled his eyes and took a place on the floor beside the bed Ben was on, while Jeff and James were flopped on the floor on either side of him.

Ben stuck his tongue out at Flint's words.

Kurt's brows rose into his hairline as he grinned. "Oh, _now_ who's being mature?" he called, pointing at Ben.

There were, "Oh!" noises, accompanied with, "Burn!" "Ouch!" "You just got _told_!"

Ben arched a brow. "Oh, do not even get me started on maturity, Hummel. I will dissolve yours in an instant if I betray your butch phase."

Kurt's mouth floundered, and this got everyone's attention. "Wait, Kurt and butch in the same sentence?" James resisted the glare from the countertenor with sheer enthusiasm to hear this story. "Spill, Barnes."

Ben simply held a level stare with Kurt who, in an effort to protect his reputation, nodded in deference to the Warbler.

"You win this time, cupcake, but just for bringing that up, I fully intend on annihilating you."

"Did you just turn cupcake into a derogatory term?" Flint looked horrified.

"Yes." Kurt looked at him steadily. "Deal with it, you sugar addict."

Flint grinned, shrugging and looking down. He felt like such a preteen girl. He was making an effort not to blush just because the guy he happened to have a (flaming panda!) crush on had just looked at him for more than a split second.

"If Ben is a cupcake, but Flint is a sugar addict, then what does that make him?" Jeff's voice rang in Flint's ears as they turned red. He had just been thinking the same thing, but he hadn't wanted to say it out loud. Dammit, Jeff was going to _die_.

But he couldn't help but look up the littlest bit to watch Kurt's reaction.

The brunette tapped his lower lip as he thought about it. "Not cupcake. That's been used and it fits Ben more."

Ben put his hand on his hip and affected a look of righteous ire. "Are you calling me fat?" he asked in a shrill voice.

Kurt's nose wrinkled (adorably) as he laughed. "No, that would be if I called you a donut, as I despise them."

Jeff gasped. "Inhuman!"

"Sensible," Kurt countered. "But actually, it fits your personality. Sweet, comforting in a fluffy good way, but not as outgoing as a cake. More of the subtly comforting type."

The others watched as Ben was at a loss of words. After a moment of bemused puzzling, he nodded. "I think that's acceptable."

Kurt grinned.

"But what about _Flint_," Jeff persisted. Flint was just about to turn around and strangle him when Kurt hummed again.

"Flint is more difficult. He's not built for a pastry, per se, but something with more substance. And he's not an out-there, ostentatious type, so not anything obnoxiously decorated."

"But he dances really well," Alex pointed out. Dammit, when had he switched to the dark side?

"Do you really?" Kurt's full attention was on him now, and Flint could feel his chest heating up, so it was only a matter of time before his neck and cheeks followed. "Aww, don't blush, Flint! It's wonderful, really! What type?" Kurt was now leaning forward over his crossed legs, looking excited. One look at those Caribbean-colored eyes and Flint had to look down.

He mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"Alittleofeverything." He looked back up, but under his lashes, not quite feeling man-enough to look at his crush after he had just admitted to taking dancing lessons. He had _balls_, dammit, it wasn't right!

He noticed Kurt's eyes going wide, and blushed deeper.

"Well, then obviously surprising. Something with layers, then."

Flint made a sound of ultimate suffering. The room burst into laughter.

Kurt blinked, and looked around. "What?"

"He _hates_ that he had to take dancing lessons," Jeff tattled gleefully. Seriously, the little shit was _so_ dead when Flint could corner him.

Kurt looked down. "Why?"

Flint looked at Ben, who Flint _thought_ was the only one who knew, when Alex spoke, making Flint's eyes fly wide open.

"Because he's gay," the dark boy said cheerfully.

Oh. My. _God._ Dead. Deaddeadead, Flint was going to become Dexter because no one was _ever_ going to find out whose body parts belonged to who, and nobody would ever link it to him.

"Umm... Flint... why are you turning _purple_?" Kurt poked his head, making Flint jump like a sissy. Wringing even more laughter out of the other males.

"I'm so going to _murder_ all of you for this," he said, burying his face in his arms, crossed over his legs as they were.

"Aww, Flint, don't be like that. It's not like I didn't know you were gay!" There was a pause after his words. Even Flint was startled. "_Bitches,_ I _patented _the gaydar. So please, remove the startled look from your faces.And Flint, there's nothing wrong with being gay! Honestly!"

"Kurt, you just happened to say the exactly _wrong_ thing after he said that, though. It's not that he's _gay_ that's the problem. It's that when you said about layers—"

"Ben, stop right there or I will _shred_ all of your favorite ties." Flint glared now.

Ben glared back. "You wouldn't dare."

"I would. You say one more word, and Bugs Bunny becomes hassenpfeffer."

High-pitched peals of laughter joined the rest this time at the look on Ben's face. Flint looked over (attempting to be subtle, but failing) and saw Kurt's face buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking violently.

"I will—"

"You will _nothing, _because Bugsy and I won't have a come-to-your-maker meeting if you keep your mouth shut about that story. And Alex, how do you even know? You weren't even there!"

The Warbler in question just grinned evilly. "Oh, I have my ways."

"You threatened his ties, didn't you?"

Ben waved his arms now. "Will you leave my ties out of this! Flint, I don't threaten your suspenders!"

"Oo, suspenders!" Kurt looked interested in this. Flint turned red again and buried his face back in his hands, suddenly too shy once again, and the room could. not. stop. laughing. "Jeez, he's allergic to me!"

"Or someth—" Jeff didn't get a chance to finish that sentence, due to lack of oxygen. Which was due to Flint's elbow impacting his solar plexus. "_Ow_," Jeff weezed.

"Shutup," Flint mumbled, and put his chin on his hands.

"Okay, let's get back to Flint wanting to _un_layer his instructor," Kurt said with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and Flint officially _died_ this time. He covered his face with his hands and curled up, shaking his head. How the fuck had Kurt figured that out?

James was _crying_ he was laughing so hard by now, and Ben was wiping his eyes with a hankie. Alex had his head on Kurt's shoulder, while the paler Warbler was trying to play with his hair like a cat.

Chaos had officially _begun_.

"Ihateyoupeople," Flint mumbled, and James patted his shoulder.

"You love us, and you know it." Jeff poked him.

"I'."

"Aw, come on. It couldn't have been that bad!" The smile was evident in Kurt's voice, though.

"He was twelve. And a lot scrawnier then."

Flint peaked between the cracks in his fingers (oh yeah, _real_ subtle) and saw Kurt's eyebrow raise. "I can't picture a small Flint." Laughter met his words, and Kurt turned bright red. "Oh, hush, you people! That's not how I meant it!" But even the post-mortified Warbler was laughing now, that cheesy grin coming to play. "I meant _short_, not... oh, for the love of..." he waved his hands to try to quiet them all. "Calm down, you pervs!"

"Moving on!" Ben said, reigning it in.

"Actually, we've tried _twice_ now to get him to tell us what a Flint-sweet would be, so you can get in line!" Jeff and James nodded, each taking residence on Flint's shoulders and peering in a very excited manner at Kurt, who just sighed.

"You really wanna know?"

"Duh!"

"You _really_ want to know?"

Even Flint wanted to lean in for this now.

"Well, that's too bad!" Kurt leaned back, laughing at the uproar of protests that met his refusal.

"That's just not fair!"

Kurt rolled his eyes, fake yawning.

"Do the puppy eyes," Jeff whispered in Flint's ear. The latter boy turned, horrified, but James—who switched shoulders to side with Jeff on this one—nodded until he practically gave himself whisplash.

Flint turned back, already wondering why he was about to do this. Why was he letting them convince him to do something? _Where had his mind gone?_

Oh yeah, out to dinner with the flaming panda.

"_Kurt_," Flint whined, and stuck his bottom lip out. His eyes widened until they were big and round.

Kurt stopped, stared. _Was it working?_

"_Please_ tell us what it is?"

Kurt rolled his eyes but his ears were tinting pink. "Not happening," he sing-sang.

"Will you _please_?" He blinked (prettily).

Kurt blinked back, his face tilting to the side of the shape of his eyes were enhanced.

Were they... _flirting?_

"_Maybe_," he returned. "Why should I?" his voice was lower than normal, a little raspy, and Flint's eyes nearly rolled back into his head. Oh. My. _God_. They were flirting. Him. Kurt. Had THE FLIRT going down right now. _Holy_ _shit_.

He kept the pout in place as he raised up to his knees. Given the length of his legs, and the distinct _lack_ of width in Dalton's rooms, this put him... oh... about _two inches_ from Kurt's face. "_Maybe 'cause you know you want to_," he breathed, and Kurt's eyes flashed down, his lashes lowering to half-mast.

The room. was. s_ilent_.

Kurt looked back into Flint's eyes now, the blue of the smaller Warbler's wide. Was it shock? Excitement? Was Kurt going to say no, or back away, or would he lean in?

Kurt gulped. "Cheesecake."

Flint blinked. Cheesecake?

"_Flint is cheesecake?"_

Kurt turned a bright red and ducked his head, leaving a bewildered Flint to blink and loll his head to the side. He was _cheesecake_?

"It'smyfavoritedessert."

Flint blushed and sat back down to his haunches, not quite sure how he felt. Well, besides the obvious butterflies whirling in his stomach. But the _reason_ they were there... he was proud, disappointed, confused, happy, and too many other things to identify. Proud, because the pout had worked. In fact, it had worked _phenomenally_. Disappointed, because it _had_ worked, and because of that, there wasn't an excuse to be so close to Kurt anymore. Confused, because... cheesecake? Really?

But happy. He was Kurt's favorite dessert. Not just a good one, his _favorite. _Awesome...

Awesome! Kurt had lumped his favorite dessert with Flint! Take that, Cupcake Ben! A grin spread across his features. "Why?" he blurted, thoroughly enjoying seeing someone else (and it was Kurt!) blush instead of himself.

"Cause it's a cheesecake with graham crackers on the bottom, then chocolate mousse and topped with caramel and fudge."

Flint was pretty sure he wasn't the only one salivating at that.

"But why is Flint _that_ cheesecake?" Ben leaned forward, his expression softly interested.

Kurt peeked above his arms now, only those blue-green-grey eyes showing. "Cause," came the still muffled voice, "he's got layers, and he's sweet, and his hair is fluffy, like the mousse, but it's the color of the graham crackers—"

"And the _drizzled_," James just _had_ to draw that word out with a waggle of his eyebrows, sending Kurt back into the safety of his arms, "caramel and fudge?"

"Idunno,leavemealoneyoumeanies!"

Then it seemed to hit everyone at once.

_He's sweet_. Kurt and Flint turned a combined shade of bloodred crimson, Kurt flushing from the ears down, Flint blushing from the chest up.

"Hey, Kurt, can I get some help wit—th," the door stopped opening suddenly as the newcomer stopped and noticed the rest of the boys packed into the small room.

"Blaine, go away," came Kurt's distinct voice, and the others around him hid grins. Flint the least successfully, but come on, give him some slack. His (flaming panda) crush had just told the guy _his _ex-crushee to go away. Flint had plenty of reason to smile.

Blaine looked taken aback. "Kurt, did I—"

"Blaine, I'm actually having fun. I really don't want to talk to you, _especially_ after that little _talk_ my dad had with me because someone decided I needed to know about sex."

"Kurt, come on, that was just because—"

"What? Because you sat me in front of a mirror and told me to be _sexy_?"

Blaine started forward, but for once, Ben stood and looked downright frightening. Without a word, he backed the lead singer out the door, quickly followed by Alex. The happy, chipper Warbler with the enormously curly 'fro had an expression that said_ You're about to die. Would you like me to give your parents your nose, or your ear? Choose quickly!_

And as silent as they had stood up, they closed the door behind them. The sound of someone's shoes scuffling as they were dragged squeaked on the floor outside of Kurt's door.

The Warbler in question kept his head down, feeling the happiness he'd been so full of just a moment ago fading.

"Did he really sit you in front of a mirror and demand that you be sexy?"

"He didn't _demand_, really, but... yeah."

"What a douche!" Jeff stood, then sat next to Kurt and wrapped his arms around him. James mirrored this, and Kurt curled into them.

Flint watched, not sure what to do. He wanted to comfort the boy in front of him, but... it wouldn't be the same as Jeff and James, because Jeff and James didn't have _those_ kinds of feelings for Kurt.

Yes, that's right, a flaming panda makes all the difference in a hug. The unspoken truth has been told.

But Flint was saved from the decision of to-hug or not-to-hug when Kurt opened his arms and lifted his head a little, looking at him with those big, liquid eyes. Flint was such a sucker for those, because he instantly rose to his knees and walked forward until Kurt's arms latched around him and the perfectly coiffed head buried into his shoulder.

"I hate it! He's an ass, even if he doesn't mean to be. He kicks me and expects me to come back. He built my hopes up, then expected me to be the one to support him through the GAP Attack when _he_ didn't have the balls to do it by himself, played the friend card but made out with one of my friends, who's a _girl_, told me I was _exactly _like the bully who threatened to kill me, still expecting me to be the one to support him, then picks on my every little nuance until I can't even _blink_ without being _not sexy_, and I'm just trying to fit in! I hate it!"

Flint wrapped his arms tightly around him, resting his cheek in Kurt's hair. Kurt was fighting back tears, for the second time in two weeks, because of Blaine Anderson. If that male didn't knock it off, Flint swore he was going to knock that boy's pitch off. Permanently. Cause this? This was ridiculous. Anyone with eyes could see how unbelievably sexy Kurt Hummel was—the curve of his eyes, the surprisingly strong line of his jaw, the flawless and milky-white skin, his innate grace, the way he walked with his head high and that stride, that zest for everything life had, for to be more...

"Blaine's an idiot, Kurt. Don't let him define what you are, and what you're not."

Kurt nodded, sniffling, and sighed into Flint's shoulder. "Thanks, Flint. I think I needed to hear that out loud, from someone else."

Flint smiled. "No problem. That's what cheesecake is for, right? Comfort food."

Kurt laughed. "Not just any cheesecake, though."

_My favorite_.

"You idiots! Why are you taking me this way? Kurt was upset!" The shorter, curly-haired Warbler tried to go straight back the way they'd come from the instant he was let loose.

"Kurt was not upset until _you_ arrived, Blaine." Ben's voice was cold. "That's _twice_ now you've made him cry, and we're getting tired of seeing it."

Blaine sputtered. "Made him cry? What have I done? Guys, I really need to talk to Kurt!"

"No, what you _need _to do is let him have some space. You're suffocating him, Blaine. You dangle right in front of him, this charming, handsome boy—did I mention gay?—but just when Kurt got his hopes up, you run the other way, and leave him to pick up the pieces."

"But you took if farther than that, Blaine," Alex's voice was almost disappointed. "You put him in the position to be your support for when you didn't have the guts to get the guy by yourself."

"And I apologized for this already. It was a total accident—"

"Which we could understand, except you told him you just wanted to be friends, you're not ready for that sort of a relationship, the _whole_ she-bang, and then you get drunk and make out with one of his friends."

"In _front_ of him," Alex added.

"And then made _him_ feel like crap when he didn't support you."

"Listen, I at least expected one of my best friends to be there—"

"Oh, no!" Ben held up a finger and stepped towards the shorter Warbler, making him back up a step automatically. "You don't _get_ to play 'best friends' when you compared him to the bully that terrified him so much he changed schools mid-term, Anderson."

"Wha—" Blaine looked affronted. "I didn't—"

"Yes, you did. You told him he was doing _exactly_ what his bully had done."

"No, I just said he was showing the same ignorance as his—"

"Blaine, listen to yourself! You compared your 'best friend' to someone who threatened his life, just because Kurt didn't stand behind you while you had your little experiment. Do you even know _why_ Kurt was so against it?"

Blaine scoffed. "Well, yeah, Kurt already told me—"

"So you _knew_ he liked you, yet you didn't anyway." Alex threw this hands up, disgusted. "And guess what, Anderson. You were wrong. It wasn't just about _you_. Kurt was worried someone would end up hurt. In fact, he was so sure that something bad was going to happen that he was willing to be the bad guy for both of you to keep you two from having hurt feelings." Alex pursed his lips and shook his head, looking down at the Warbler before him. "You're a real piece of work."

Ben stepped forward a bit, catching Blaine's attention once more. "Leave him alone for a little while. He needs some time away from you to get over whatever it was between you two before he can be friends again."

"So you're threatening me—"

"No, we're not. We're telling you to give him the space he's asking you for so that he can be friends with you the way you need him to be without stepping all over his heart."

The pair turned and walked away, shaking their heads in disgust.

"So is that why you've been keeping Kurt from me the past week of Warbler meetings?"

Ben turned to look over his shoulder. "Anderson, Kurt _asked_ us to keep you from him. What does that say about you that the first friend he had here is now the one he wants to hide from?"

* * *

**_A/N: _**_Awwww. Poor guys. But I LOVED writing THE FLIRT part. :D Ohmygoodness, that would just be too cute! And hot. Yeah. And the flaming panda. :DDDDD Aawwwww-some. So cute. Hope you enjoyed! ^^  
_


	4. Chapter 4: Original Songs

_**A/N: WARNING! WILL GO AU FROM HERE! SERIOUSLY, SERIOUSLY AU. **You have been warned. Moving along, I truly hope you enjoy this chapter and where it leads, cause there is no way in hell I'm stopping to wait for April 12th to get here so I can continue. :P So prepare for a whole lot of crazy Dalton... what would you call them? Daltoners? Daltonites? Daltontonians? Well, anyway, a lot of crazy from the group of crazies. With lots of motherish Ben and, of course, FLIRT FTW!_

_Oh, and a character update! Brock Baker is Bailey. I figured I would continue the B Legacy. :D_

_Enjoy! ^^_

The room was mostly dark, only a small lamp giving light in the form of a soft golden glow. But the shadows spreading across the walls like thin, menacing souls waiting to pounce on the lone boy showed that it takes more than one small source of light to banish the shadows.

Especially the ones currently inside the boy's mind.

Blaine raked his hands through his curls again, sending them in a disarray that brought what was inside and displayed it outwardly. His brain was tossing back and forth—he hadn't meant to hurt Kurt—but what if he _had_? What if he had chosen, in some part of his subconscious, to lead Kurt on, over and over again?

He thought back over everything he could remember, every little detail Kurt had probably noticed that he, himself, had glossed over. First time they'd met—Blaine had taken his hand. He remembered this. But what he _hadn't_ remembered before now was the look on Kurt's face when he had. That split second before he'd turned, Kurt's mouth had dropped open, just the littlest bit, and then Blaine had been leading him towards the commons, running, then slowing down and looking over at Kurt, then skipping off again. And when they had reached there, and Kurt had felt so out of place, Blaine had smoothed down his lapel, and Kurt's eyes had flashed down, then up, startled. With his knowledge considerably expanded since then, Blaine now understood that it was because none of the other boys had wanted to get within a foot of him, let alone touch any part of him, so the contact had been startling and shiny new, a door opened to maybe finally being able to find someone to have a relationship with.

Blaine put his head in his hands. He should have realized, right then, what he had started, even if it was just second-nature to flirt like that with a cute boy. He should have realized the innocence blazing in Kurt's shy eyes, and backed off. But no, he had just been his normal self, and had continued. Because he had locked eyes with Kurt during the song, pointed at him when meaningful lines had come up—_You make me feel like I'm livin' a teenage dream... don't ever look back—_he hadn't turned with the rest of the Warblers on that line, too busy putting some earnest _want_ into his eyes, his voice, and sending it to Kurt.

A groan rumbled from his throat. He was such a jerk.

Flash to Christmas, just before break. He had needed a partner with a high range, and Kurt had been the perfect match for his level of vocal performance and stage presence, and while Blaine had been too hyped about how well they had worked together, how ready he now was to sing that song, Kurt had been thinking along the lines of _flirty duet_. Which it totally had been—even if Blaine hadn't actually meant to flirt with Kurt. It had been an invigorating show of skills—vocal and acting—that had left Blaine feeling confident, and Kurt falling deeper.

Next scene: Blaine going with Kurt to the game. _Totally. We love football. Well, Blaine loves football. _Kurt's sentence echoed in his head, but there had been a hasty addition that Blaine hadn't taken notice then. Replaying it over and over, Blaine heard the sentence everyone else had, but he had been too busy enjoying the stupid biscotti to hear. _Blaine loves football. I love Blaine_. He was so stupid! How could he have missed that? But no, Kurt had saved himself from faux pas by adding _I love scarves_, which Blaine had thought the understatement of the century and laughed at.

The only understatement now was how he was an oblivious jerk.

Cueing the next prompt: Valentine's Day. Blaine _really_ didn't want to go over this. It was so embarrassing and shaming that it turned his ears red instantly. Blaine, Idiot of the Year, finding a cute boy that, when they had coffee together, seemed both mysterious and adorably shy. Jeremiah hadn't wanted to talk about much, so he had been a challenge Blaine had been determined to figure out. And how did he always figure things out? Song! So he had gotten the great (read: sarcasm in the extreme) idea to sing to him at work, where there was no possible chance that the boy could refuse to listen and hear the much-acclaimed Dalton Warblers, led by the oh-so-charming-and-dapper Blaine Anderson. But he had forgotten one enormous thing: Kurt Hummel. He had led Kurt on to think that he was going to sing to the boy, and when Kurt had fluttered his (unbelievably pretty) eyes at Blaine—_you know my coffee order?—_Blaine hadn't paid much attention. He'd thought Kurt was acting again, so Blaine had taken a role once more—_of course I do—_with an affronted look and had given the money for both of their coffees. Except, it wasn't just that. He had _always_ paid for their coffee trysts, so add that to the list of _Blaine Unwitting Seduction Techniques_. Lovely.

And then he had announced that they were going to the GAP to serenade the boy, and Kurt had looked confused. _Why the GAP? _Because Blaine was an idiot. After he'd convinced Kurt to convince the _council_, he let loose the 'big secret.' _Because the guy I like works at the GAP_. Blaine, you moron, you should have noticed then, if at no other point in time. Kurt had looked _devastated_, and he had had a right to. Blaine thumped his hands against his forehead.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Determined to see the worst in himself now, Blaine went over telling Kurt he was bad at romance, he didn't want to screw things up, the whole speech in 'I'm just not ready for that type of a relationship.' And what did he do? When Kurt asked if he would join him in the Rachel-Berry-House-Party-Trainwreck-Extravaganza, Blaine had laughed and said it would be a wonderful idea, thinking along the lines of breaking the boundaries separating New Directions from the Warblers, you know, a way to ease any hostilities between the groups and show that everyone was just a human, regardless of school affiliation. Yeah, right. All he'd shown was that he became a sexually confused _moron _when added with alcohol. So after his lovely speech of just wanting friend-type relationships, he had thrown his bi-curious feelings in Kurt's face and expected the poor boy to solve his problems for him. Blaine saw now how hurt Kurt had been, how it must have looked like Blaine was willing to go out with a _girl_ rather than him. He had been so insensitive, and to top it all off, he _still_ couldn't remember what he'd said to Kurt in their argument. He had been so screwed up that he had just blabbed out whatever he felt, because it was all about _Blaine, Blaine, Blaine_, and Kurt had been in the wrong.

_Oh my god, I accused Kurt of being his own bully. I told him he was the same ignorant, violently ignorant human being as the person who forced himself on Kurt, terrified him until he couldn't move, threatened to _kill_ him, and then drove him out of the school. _

Blaine was shaking now, but it wasn't like Karofsky, where he could go and confront the bully. The bully was _himself_ this time, and he had made a mistake of monumental proportions. _Congratulations, Anderson, you've won the asshole of the year award! Anyone you'd like to thank? _Yeah. Himself.

And then he'd told Kurt he wasn't sexy. What the hell had he been thinking? Kurt was naturally beautiful, sexy, alluring in a masculine-yet-feminine way. But he'd shoved Kurt to try harder, do better, and he'd made Kurt extremely uncomfortable. Instead of helping Kurt feel confident and attractive in his own body, he'd demolished Kurt's belief in his own appeal to others. Blaine realized how much attention Kurt paid to how he looked—not in a vain way, but in a way that would show others each and every day how attractive and strong Kurt was in his own self—and to tell Kurt that he was failing miserably at that. Holy crap. What the hell had he been smoking this entire time?

Oh, yeah. His own hubris. Because he was Blaine Anderson, lead soloist for the Dalton Academy Warblers, charmer of both sexes.

Blaine thunked his head back against the wall above his bed, tilting sideways to reach it. Why had he done all of that? Blaine couldn't imagine being a bigger jerk to anyone else, and yet the one person he had been so horrible to was his _best friend_. Why? Had he, somewhere in the back of his mind, wanted to do all of this to Kurt? Why? Why had he spent so much time and effort on something so _negatively _impacting? He had used and abused Kurt's trust, demolished his self-worth, and Kurt had trudged through time and time again, being the best friend he could be for Blaine. Holy crap. Kurt's strength of character amazed and shamed him.

How could he make this up to Kurt?

The question haunted Blaine, even as his emotionally-wrung-out brain shut down.

How could he... make it up... to Kurt?

Kurt was late to Warblers. He was never late. Oh god, what if he was avoiding Blaine to a new extreme? Not that Blaine blamed him at all, he deserved to have some idiot-free time, but this was Warblers! Kurt loved singing, he was _made_ to sing!

And then Kurt entered the room, dressed not in the blue and red colors of Dalton, but all black. As in black shirt, skin-tight pants, jacket, what _was_ that thing around his neck? Was it a tie, a scarf? Regardless, that, too, was black. And Kurt looked ready to cry. Kurt _never_ cried in front of people. He was too proud and strong for that.

"Pavarotti's dead. I suspect a stroke."

Oh, shit. Blaine stood up, wanting to go over and comfort, but feeling like he didn't have the right to. "Kurt, I'm so sorry."

"I know it's really stupid to be upset about a bird, but... he... he inspired me, with his optimism and his love of song. He was my friend. And I know that we are expected to doo-wop behind Blaine while he sings lead in every one of the medley of Pink songs, but I wants to sing a song for Pavarotti today." And with that, he hands a cassette to Alex, who puts a comforting hand on the countertenor's shoulder before inserting it into the old player.

Kurt started Blackbird, the perfect song for him and Pavarotti, and for what seemed the first time in ever, Blaine sang back-up to someone else. He had to stop, though, because Kurt... Kurt was amazing. Dressed in dramatic black to honor his lost companion, singing in a lower register than usual, he was captivating. His heart poured into the song, all earnest emotion—no acting, no faking it, he was singing Pavarotti (and maybe himself?) into the song, and it was at this moment when it finally clicked for Blaine. He hadn't wanted to see it, because he had wanted to be the white knight, the protector of the small, he had wanted to be put on a pedestal—but the truth was, he had fallen just as hard for Kurt as Kurt had for him. And it took that moment for Blaine to realize it.

Into the light of the dark black night... Kurt's head tipped back and even crying, heartbroken in so many ways, he was sexy. You were only waiting for this moment to arrive. Blaine felt his mind go blank at this. It was now as if Kurt were singing about him, to him, and Blaine felt a small smile tugging at his lips.

He knew, in that moment, what he needed to do.

F L I R T

Blaine decided now was the perfect time to start his plan. After all, he was frustrated and tired, everyone _else_ was frustrated and tired, and when Ben mockingly said, "How dare you?" as if he were offended at David, Blaine knew better. He was looking at David, but the twitch of David's lips gave away that the darker of the pair knew _exactly_ who Ben was saying that to. Blaine knew as well—because it was him.

"Enough, I'm tired of this," he interrupted, and shook his head. He started his carefully planned, well-thought-out speech. But when he got to _we are going to lose at regionals_, even David—steady, laid-back David—looked up sharply. Amidst the chorus of _what_? Blaine rose his voice to be heard, and told them how grateful he was for their faith and let them settle down. Taking a breath, he gathered his courage and charged on. "But from what Kurt has told me about New Directions," he took a quick look to see if Kurt was watching—and sure enough, he had the countertenor's undivided attention—before continuing with a small hitch in his breath, "I just _know_ I can't beat them on my own." He looked over at Kurt again, but the paler boy looked away quickly, eyes darting anywhere but in his direction. Blaine swallowed, and made sure his voice was steady. "Which is why I propose that we rearrange our 11 o'clock number..." and he locked eyes with Kurt now, making sure to put his feelings into his next words, "and turn it into a duet."

There were protests now, and Kurt was now looking down at his shoes. Ben, however, was quicker to catch on. And his look was not a happy one—in fact, he looked a cross between worried and _oh, I _know_ you're not thinking what I think you're thinking, small fry_. He knew _exactly_ what Blaine had planned, and he was about a second and a half from going mother-hen all over Blaine's carefully gelled hair.

Blaine stood quickly, getting everyone's attention again, and got to the kick of his speech. "Now, we all lost one of our own this week," he said, and people looked down sadly. Each of them had lost their birds, so they knew what it was like to lose the 'familiar' of their voice. "Pavarotti's voice was silenced by death, and I—I don't want to silence anyone else's voice in this group." He tried to lighten it up a little bit, feeling if he made it too sad, people would just quit right then. "I think he would roll over in his tiny, tiny little grave."

"The placement of which has yet to be determined."

Kurt spoke! Blaine smothered the big smile that wanted to make itself known. If Kurt was speaking during Warblers again, he was making progress. He was getting somewhere already.

Wes looked at Kurt with understanding, and called for a vote on changing their first number into a dual-lead. It sailed through, nearly all of the hands raising. Blaine noted, out of the corner of his eye, that Ben was one of the few to _not_ raise his hand. Come to think of it, of the Warblers he could see, Ben, James, Flint and Alex weren't raising their hands.

Kurt was clearly feeling better, though, because he made a quip about making sure to put his name down for the audition list.

Blaine drew out the punch line now. "No... no auditions." He took a deep breath. "I want to sing a duet... with _Kurt_." He turned and looked at the Warbler on the couch, trying to smile and show how much he felt. Kurt froze, and looked away, across from where he sat. (Blaine was too busy looking at Kurt's blue eyes, trying to make him look up at him, to realize the pale boy was paler than normal and looking into Flint's eyes with a 'save me' plea in them. He also missed the grin that Jeff sent to Bailey, to Blaine's back-left. The grin said,_ seriously, _now_ he goes for it?_ While Bailye's look was _oh no, oh no, this is a _bad_ idea_.)

"That's... ridiculous," Kurt looked to the council. "I mean, there's so many great voices. I—everyone deserves a shot at that honor." He held his hands up, at a loss of what to say. Blaine interpreted this as a good thing.

Blaine smiled, overriding Kurt's protests. "All in favor of Kurt being my duet partner at regionals?"

Flint didn't raise his hand, his shoulders slumping. Neither did Bailey, Adam or Nicki, who had been told the situation by Jeff and Alex. Meanwhile, Ben and Jeff had their hands up—but definitely not in favor. Jeff was trying to get the council's attention without causing too much of a disturbance, and Ben had two fingers up and a game-face coming down as he prepared to let into the lead soloist _publically_.

However, the rest of the Warblers who _didn't_ understand the situation rose their hands eagerly, apparently not noticing Kurt's stricken,_ help, me, people!_ face as he looked around the room.

Even David—who_ knew_ the situation, but was apparently willing to try to set the two Warblers up—raised his hand, the traitor.

Wes smiled. "Decided," and the gavel came down with a decisive _thwack_. There were congratulations as Kurt flapped his mouth open and closed, torn between dismay and a smile. He was getting a leading part? But wait, that part was with Blaine. He sat still, letting himself be thumped enthusiastically by excited Warblers.

Blaine sat back in his chair, smiling from ear to ear. Part one of his master plan _Make Things Better With Kurt and Hopefully Get Together With Kurt_ accomplished.

_F L I R T _

_(Note: ____**AU STARTS HERE ^^)**_

The door opened and Kurt looked up, then quickly back down. He didn't want to do this today. Not _today_, when he was trying to get over Pav's death. He was still hurting over that, and then with getting a leading part in the duet with Blaine... he had finally had time to think that over, and had come to a conclusion.

He was ecstatic about the leading song part. However, singing that leading part with_ Blaine_, the boy he was getting over? Not so okay. He had been debating between letting the part go for the past hour.

And here was Blaine, waltzing in when he was at his weakest.

_Come on, fates, you three bitches, work with me here! _But it wasn't to be so, as Blaine smiled at him—not his usual cheesy, wide grin—and took a breath. "Well, finish up. I have the perfect song for our number and we should practice." He came closer to the table, but his steps were slow, hesitant.

Kurt got a bad feeling, but tried to smile for his friend. It came out a little apprehensive, still. "Do tell."

"Candles, by Hey Monday."

Kurt's brows rose. "I'm impressed," he said, shocked. "You're usually so Top 40."

"Well, I just wanted something more..." Blaine took a deep breath, and Kurt's stomach sank, "emotional."

Kurt looked down, trying to concentrate on his work, but questions kept popping up. "Why did you pick me to sing that song with?" It was out before he could stop it, and he could just_ feel_ the train skidding off the tracks and coming towards him now.

Blaine took a breath this time, but it was shuddering. He shut his eyes for a moment, shaking his head a little, before opening his mouth to speak. "Kurt, there is a moment when you say to yourself, 'Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever.'" Blaine was looking at Kurt directly as he said this, and suddenly he moved towards the edge of his chair, towards Kurt, and put his hand on top of the pale boy's. "Watching you do Blackbird this week… that was the moment for me… about you." He shook his head again, and leaned forward even more, and his eyes were blazing with emotion now, as if he was trying to will all of it from him to Kurt. "You move me, Kurt... and this duet would just be an excuse to spend more time with you."

Kurt blinked, and sat back in his chair. After _months_ of pining after Blaine, this should be what he wanted. It was what he'd dreamed about! Blaine, making an eloquent speech, his eyes dripping with sincere emotion as he told Kurt of his feelings for him... this was what he'd wanted, more than anything.

So why did he just feel... conflicted, like his stomach had suddenly become a washing machine put on high spin cycle? He felt sad, first off, then angry, disgusted, disappointed... just _mad_? In that moment, he knew he was free from being under Blaine's reign, and he felt powerful, strong for the first time in _days_. And with that power came the confidence to have it all out and give the boy who'd trampled his heart a piece of his damn mind.

"A couple of weeks ago, I would have jumped all over that. I would have been brought to tears by your sincerity, Blaine, and we would have shared the first kiss I have always dreamed about. But this... this isn't going to work."

Blaine bit his lip. "Kurt, I went over everything last night—_really, really_ replayed everything—and I saw how many times I hurt you. I'm so sorry, Kurt. I'm so, so sorry for how often I didn't think of your feelings, and I promise—"

"To what? Change? Blaine, if you have to change who you are to be in a relationship, then what's the point? It took Ben and Alex dragging you out of my room and probably giving you the verbal set-down of a lifetime to get you to see what you had done, because you never noticed it yourself!" Kurt blinked back tears, working himself up now. He had this strange mixture of sadness and anger whirling inside of him, and he couldn't keep his voice from rising.

"Kurt, please, just give me a chance to—"

"I gave you a chance, Blaine! I gave you _several_ of them!" He swallowed thickly and stood up, trying to ignore the hurt lacing Blaine's hazel eyes. "I could understand with the whole GAP incident, honestly, I could. You didn't know—fine. But after that, Blaine? Every time you came by,_ needing_ my help with something, or asking my opinion because it 'mattered so much,' what was that? Or let's get to the big points!"

"Kurt, please, can we just talk about this?" Blaine stood now as well, one hand on the desk and leaning towards Kurt, brow wrinkled and upset. He honestly looked about ready to cry.

Kurt shoved at his eyes, hating that they were wet when he was _angry_, dammit. "About what, Blaine? You_ knew_ I liked you, and yet you used me for your own purposes time and time again, little things here and there. And then Rachel? Why _Rachel_, of all people, Blaine? With Brittany or Santana, I would call you an idiot, but I would have supported. But _Rachel Berry!_" Kurt's voice was bringing people to the doors now, not that he noticed. "And then, when I'm not behind you a 110%, I'm suddenly just like the guy who shoved me into locker, tossed me into dumpsters, had sick little closet fantasies about me, threw slushies in my face _everyday_, Blaine. The person who terrified me and told me if I told anyone he had forced himself on me he was going to _kill _me! You told me I was just like him, because I was being ignorant and self-centered and uncaring of how all of that was effecting_ you_. Well you want to know what, Blaine?" Kurt notched his chin up, determined to finish this sick _infatuation_ once and for all. "I_ am _sexy. I am _damn _fine. I am my own person, whether that's Dalton's perfect little Warbler or not." He looked down at the boy he had once been so crazy about, and couldn't figure out how things had changed so much in such a short time. "Maybe someday we can be friends again, Blaine, but that is _all _we will _ever _be. Because I'm not the type of person who asks someone to change themselves to be who I want them to be. I'll see you in Warblers, but I need time. I need time away from you, and away from _us_, and I ask that you respect that."

And with that, he turned and saw two doors full of Dalton students—mostly Warblers—but one door held _his _Warblers, and he walked to them, trying not to cry again. Ben opened his arms and Kurt walked into them, needing the comfort Ben represented.

"Easy, boo, you're gonna be okay now," he said softly. Kurt nodded, and let himself sink into the protective circle that surrounded him, created by the rest of their group shielding Kurt from everyone else. Flint's wide back created an excellent block from the room, and he put a hand on Kurt's shoulder, while Alex rubbed his back in circles.

"H-how are _any _of you straight, again?" he asked, and they laughed.

"Some of us are just higher forms of male," Ben said primly, and Kurt chuckled.

"Evolution, bitches," James snapped near his head, and Kurt full-out laughed.

"James, you're as far from straight as I am, what are you talking about?"

Jeff looked over at his twin in mock-shock. "You like the sausage?"

There were various forms of _eww _to be said to that, but Jeff just laughed and jumped in a circle.

"Okay, okay, settle down, ducklings. Let's more this out of the hallway, shall we?"

"Oh, oh, I know! Kurt, I just got Happy Feet! We should watch it!" Alex's enthusiasm was impossible to deny, with the dimples winking and curls bouncing up and down around him as he bounced.

Kurt laughed. "Hugh Jackman, here we come!"

"Hmm, tall, wide-shouldered, bulky build and can sing! Who does that sound l—" Jeff was cut off as Flint's elbow reconnected with his sternum. "_Ow_! Why is it always _me _that you hit so hard?"

"Why do you always say things you _know _will make him hit you?" Ben called back.

Kurt laughed as Ben and Jeff bickered, with occasional smart-ass comments from Flint and James. Alex had his arm wrapped around Kurt's shoulders, while Ben had Kurt's arm tucked in his.

The bickering, jokes, and playful attitudes of the boys helped cheer Kurt up like nothing, and when he Jeff started to argue about whether Jeff's hair was fashionable, Kurt had his groove back.

_I guess the fates are willing to work with me after all,_ Kurt thought as he looked around at the tight circle of friends.

James broke into his thoughts with a brilliant (read: sarcastic) idea. "Maybe you should spike it up! That's look cool!"

Jeff turned to his partner in crime. "Are you kidding me? Do you know how long it would take to get it up and make it _stay _up?"

Ben—mother-hen Ben—put a hand on his hip and looked over with a saucy look at the two. "And _that_, my ducklings, is what she said."


	5. Chapter 5: A Hard Day's Night

"A sleepover?"

Kurt nodded, his face calm and collected. "Yes, Dad, a sleepover."

"With other boys?"

"Dalton _is_ an all-boys academy, so yes."

"You know what I mean, Kurt." Kurt stayed silent, big Caribbean eyes slanted upwards as he gazed up at Burt, preparing for Papa-Bear mode. Burt sighed, and took off his hat, ran a hand over his head, and put it back on. Then readjusted it. Dammit, it was times like these when Kurt looked more like Elizabeth than ever. When she was waiting for him to get to the conclusion she'd already made five minutes ago, she'd crossed her ankles, a hand on her hip or crossed again, and had waited silently, looking at him patiently with that blank face and those up-tilted eyes.

And even now, _years_ after her death, the sight of that look _still_ had the power to make him sweat bullets. This was his _son_! It should be the opposite way around, for Pete's sake!

"Kurt, it's not that I'm against it. But you've gotta see this from a parent's point of view."

"I get it, Dad. Your gay son, with a bunch of _other boys_," Kurt emphasized those two words, his pitch raising as he made a fake, cheesy upbeat face, "in the basement. Unsupervised. All night—"

"Alright, alright. You've made your point. But it's not you being who you are that worries me, Kurt." A corner of his lips tugged into a small smile as he put his hand on Kurt's shoulder and squeezed. "You're a smart kid, Kurtie, and I know I can trust you to not do—that," he said after an awkward moment, "with a whole bunch of other guys in our house. But these other guys, I don't know, and who's to say that they won't—"

"Dad, only two of them are gay. The rest are straight. Some—though I have no idea as to how, yet—have even managed to attain a girlfriend." Kurt's nose wrinkled as he thought about that. "Those poor, poor females..."

Burt sighed, but the smile was tugging at his mouth, so he had to end this before he caved in completely. When had he become such a pushover? Oh—yeah. When his son had started to be so happy. The price of being a parent. Burt grunted, and rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Okay, so only two of them are gay. How many would there be?"

"Well, there's a possibility for seven, but it'll probably only be five." When Burt was about to protest, Kurt rushed on. "That's only one more than Finn has over _every week_, Dad. Seriously. And I promise you won't have to wake up to the crashing sounds of glass breaking when someone—_Puck_," Kurt coughed, "—decides to see if he can flip Finn over his shoulder like he saw in a movie."

Burt sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck. This was the first sleepover Kurt had ever had ever said he wanted with _boys_, so he had perfect reason to feel anxious, alright? It'd always been Mercedes, Mercedes, _girl time, lady's night_, and makeovers, and Burt had tuned out and said yes automatically after a while. But this... this was new, and Burt wasn't quite sure how to handle it just quite yet. So... they would try it out, and if there was any sort of _funny business_ going on in his household, this would be the _last_ boy night that the Hummel-Hudson household would be seeing.

But for now... "Alright. But no drinking, you hear me?"

"_Dad_," Kurt complained, his face turning pink. "That was _one_ time, and I didn't even _know_ there was alcohol in that! And it was an adult who gave me it—"

Burt couldn't hide the grin now.

"Oh, you're so going to pay for that," came the lofty reply as Kurt saw it. Narrowed eyes—Jesus, how was it a _son_ of _his_ could turn out to be such a beautiful kid? Burt was going to have to start putting bars on the windows— "Dad." Fingers snapped in front of him, and Burt blinked to see Kurt standing with a hand on his hip, hip cocked, looking at him with that 'my dad's a nutjob' look on his face. "Welcome back to Lima, I'll be your son, Kurt Hummel."

"Smart-ass. Okay, you can have your sleepover. But if I wake up cause you guys are too loud, I'm coming down and you'll quiet down, just like Finn and the other New Di—" Burt couldn't say it. Even at his age, he was still male enough to not be able to say anything like 'new-directions' without wanting to snort. "Well, you get the drift, kiddo."

Kurt beamed, and jumped to hug him. Now this, _this_ was something Burt would never get tired of, and had always been thankful for. He wrapped his much bigger arms around his thin son and hugged him back, tightly. "I love you, Kurtie, and I trust you. So you have to excuse me for wanting to protect my son's innocence." He said it _just_ because he knew the reaction he was going to get.

"_Dad!_ Innocence? Really? Who even uses that outdated term anymore?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, making Burt laugh. "Go on, bud. You probably have homework to do, and cause you're here and not over at that fancy school, you have extra driving to do, and I definitely don't want you out on the road half-awake cause you waited until the last minute."

He was rewarded with an arched brow and a haughty look. Where had this kid gotten that sort of class from—cause it sure as hell wasn't from him. "Dad, you should know by now that I never do _anything_ half-assed."

It was Burt's turn to roll his eyes. "Get going, I hear a clock ticking somewhere."

"No, Dad, you're just plain hearing things," Kurt said as he headed up the stairs.

Burt was left in the kitchen, chuckling—there were lots of things different between the two of them (which even Burt would admit was the understatement of the century) but Burt remembered a time when he had told his old man the exact same thing. Some things _never_ changed in the Hummel line.

T H E F L I R T

"I got it!" Kurt scrambled to his feet at the sound of the doorbell and Finn's yell coming from upstairs. No, no, no, this was NOT happening.

"Finn, touch that doorknob and I will eviscerate you!"

Finn—not having a clue as to what eviscerate even _meant—_grinned suicidally as he narrowly avoided bowling Kurt over as he came up the stairs. "Snooze you lose!" he called back as he slid to a slippery stop on the hardwood floor of the living room. As it was, he'd built up enough momentum to slam into the back of the front door, making a loud _thud_ that echoed in the walls.

Whatever Kurt was about to hiss at him was interrupted as Finn opened the door—and looked around. Now, he had been expecting a gaggle of teenagers, that part wasn't the problem. However, the fact that the group in front of him was a pack of teenage _boys_ floored him. He'd been expecting Mercedes, Tina, maybe even Santana and Brittany—not even _he_ was dumb enough to think that Rachel would be coming over any time soon—but these were _definitely_ _not_ Mercedes and Tina...

"Oh. Hi..." Finn looked at the boys, most of them quite a bit shorter than him, but he was pleased to see that there was finally, _finally_, someone his height at their age.

"Finnegan, I am going to _end_ you." There was a sighing sound behind him, and then it dawned that he was standing in front of the door... staring at them.

"Oh, yeah! Come on in!"

"Guys, this is Finn, my jolly green giant brother. Finn, these are my friends."

Finn beamed at being called brother, got out of the way as they filed in, two of the shorter ones already looking around with avid fascination. It... was a house... what was so exciting about that?

"Wow! Not what I was expecting!" One of them—a small fry with dark skin and a big grin—clapped Kurt on the shoulder as he came in.

Kurt raised an eyebrow at him. "What were you expecting? A shack? I'm sorry, but my clothes would get wrinkles if we lived in a hovel, so I'm afraid we must disappoint you by having a nice home."

The tall one grinned. "I don't know—a Hummel Hovel has a wholesome sound to it."

Finn watched as his brother groaned with the rest of them, but they all laughed at the bad joke. It was... kind of cool, actually, seeing his brother hanging out with guys for once. At McKinley he'd hung out with the girls, but Finn guessed he couldn't really do that—all boy's school, yeah, that might make it hard to hang out with girls...

He realized he was just standing to the side awkwardly, and decided to hit his computer so he wasn't just hanging over them. He didn't want Kurt to think he was a creeper or anything just cause he had guys over for once... yeah, okay, time to shut up, Finn.

Kurt rolled his eyes as Finn _at last_ seemed to get that he was just standing there with the door open, and let the group get their bearings. Jeff and James probably two seconds from racing around the house to discover what else there was to be found, while Alex and Ben just took note, nodded, and looked back at Kurt. Flint's face was interesting—to Kurt, at least—because it held curiosity, but more than that, it held a smile as he looked about, an affectionate look as his eyes traveled the walls. Kurt looked over to where the taller boy was gazing, and promptly blushed. Baby photos. The cliché of clichés for someone to come into your house for the first time and look at baby photos. Well, Kurt was turning into the embarrassed victim part of that cliché, and so decided very quickly that it was time to go downstairs.

"Okay, everyone! Kitchen is just behind me, feel free to—"

"Now wait up a second." Kurt closed his eyes. _Why, universe? Why couldn't you have waited just one more minute? _Kurt opened his eyes and turned with a smile plastered onto his face, praying to Gaga that his dad didn't decide to give all of _them_ the sex talk as well—with his dad, you just never knew what was about to come out of his mouth.

"Guys, this is my dad, Burt. Dad, meet my friends. The curly one is Alex, the one next to him is Ben, the twins attached at the hip are Jeff and James—Jeff has the 'scene' blond, James has the big grin—and the tall one with the goofy grin is Flint." He turned back to Burt. "And that's all of them. Nick actually went home this weekend, so it's just us."

Burt looked over all of them individually, making Ben raise his eyebrow at Kurt. Kurt shrugged. He honestly had _no _idea what was going on in his father's head.

"What happened to that Blaine kid?"

Kurt raised his brow. "What about him?"

"I figured he was gonna be here, too. Why do you think I was so uneasy about all this?"

Ben chuckled. "Blaine Anderson will no longer be making odd visits with your son anymore."

Burt looked at Kurt, and even though his face was surprisingly okay with this, Kurt knew the look in his father's eyes to mean _we'll talk about this later so I don't embarrass you now, but you're _going _to tell me about this, you hear me? _

Yes, all of that in one look.

Kurt nodded, patted his dad's arm, and turned back to the boys. "Okay! So—"

"Ah, just hold on a second. There's a few rules." Kurt bit back a groan. "No drinking, no breaking anything, no truth-or-dare streaking down the street—"

"_Dad_!" Kurt squeaked, and Jeff looked about ready to pee himself, his body was shaking so hard from suppressed laughter.

"And if you're hungry, just grab something. We have enough food for the apocalypse, so don't worry. Pizza will be here at 8, so..." he hooked his thumb over his shoulder. "Go play in the street, or something."

Alex was the first to laugh. "Sure!" he said in a very chipper way. Burt obviously was trying _not_ to give the kid a strange look, but this kid _was _strange...

"Okay! So, downstairs we go. Unless Alex wants to play fetch with the moving vehicles." Laughter met his statement, and one very embarrassed Kurt led the way down to the basement.

"Whoa."

"Nice."

"DIBS!" Jeff and James dove for the first two controllers.

The other three newcomers looked around. The room was a brown color that looked like someone had painted it with melted chocolate—it was actually making Alex hungry. But more than that, the couches were cream-colored leather, soft and buttery looking, the TV was a big, flat, one—the LED type that the rest of them had, and there was about 5 different types of game systems. For someone from the 'middle class,' Kurt's home was surprisingly _awesome_.

Alex grinned, looked at the rest of them—and then did a flying jump onto one of the big couches. He landed with a satisfying thump and rolled, settling in quite nicely.

"There are times when I wonder if he's 17 or 7..." Ben shook his head and followed at a more sedate pace.

Flint continued to look closely at everything, taking it all in. It seemed like a home—not just a house, not just an empty shell, but a place that had been designed for a close-knit family. Each wall had something different to it, a different feel. One wall had rock band posters, sports photos and a giant F on it—Finn? The wall to the left had a C on it, and Flint guessed that must be Kurt's step-mom. It had classic movies on it, along with the really good musicals by Rodger and Hammerstein. The wall across from that had football teams, cars, and a painted on Popeye—above it was a B for Burt, but Flint had already guessed it was his from the Popeye.

The last one had pictures—all sorts of pictures. He knew it was Kurt's before he saw the stylized K at the top, but the wall below it was amazing. So many photos. There were lots of ones with him and a large african girl, ones with people making funny faces, people laughing, Kurt's 'don't you dare!' look with a finger pointed at the camera, Kurt swinging, an asian girl making a peace sign, a tall asian boy caught mid-dance with his legs at an _impossible_ curve as he was rising up from the floor, Finn with a big grin and a clueless face, Burt with his hands on his hips, a woman with brown hair in a wedding dress kissing Burt—this was Kurt's step-mom, obviously. But there were obviously recent ones, all of them Warbler photos. Ones of Ben with his FIERCE face, Alex grinning to make his cheeks turn into chipmunk dimples, David and Wes doing something... it almost looked like they were having eye-sex... with the gavel between them... Flint bit back a grin. Then there were ones that he hadn't realized had been taken. Jeff and James dancing during a Misery practice, with the pair entirely frozen right after _get me bad_, both facing towards Kurt. Flint was in the background, watching where his feet were going, a grin spreading across his face. There was one of them during one of their wacky after-class time, when they all had blazers off and shirtsleeves rolled up or off completely, some of the ties were loose, gone, or being worn in the completely wrong place, in Jeff and Flint's case with deciding to wear them around their heads in defiance of the school dress code. There was one where Kurt was attempting to pull Alex's hair back, and Jeff was red from laughing at the futile attempt. Alex's eyes were as far up as they could go from trying to watch Kurt's actions. Kurt was laughing helplessly, not a small laugh, but big laughs that scrunched his nose and lit up his face. His lips went into the funniest shape when he laughed or smiled like that.

It didn't escape his notice that there were ones with just Kurt and himself in them, like the one in front of the stage for Regionals, or in front of a small statue of some general or famous person from long ago that no one had a clue about. Flint was striking a pose, holding onto one side of his jacket and making a serious face while Kurt had one arm wrapped around General Who-Gives-A— and then there was one that someone from the crowd had obviously taken of the Warblers right after one of their numbers at Breadstixx. Flint had nudged Kurt with his arm and had leaned closer to say something—_I didn't know Wes could dance like that, especially with a girl. He was _rubbing up _against her, oh my god!—_and Kurt had ducked his head the tiniest bit, trying to hold back the laughter but unable to control it as the smile broke over his face. Ben had muttered something that neither Kurt nor Flint had caught, causing James to grin and laugh, nodding, while Ben tried to hold onto his serious face. He had been caught _failing_ in that effort, because the person behind the camera could tell that the wall was breaking and he was a split second from laughing until he cried.

Then something caught his attention—there were spots in the collage that were almost... bare... obviously there were still pictures, but there were spots with less of them and spots where the wall was even showing through. His brow furrowed in thought.

"It's my portion of the room," Kurt said beside him, making him jump and bring his head back from its proximity to the wall in front of him. "Each person got a wall, and they were in charge of decorating it. Technically I was in charge of decorating everything down here, but the surface layer of the walls are their choices."

"I figured, given the letters and the different styles. You don't strike me as a KISS fan...much less a Meatloaf fanatic..."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "No. I preferred ABBA, Bon Jovi, B-52s, or even Toni Basil."

Flint laughed. "Mickey?"

Kurt's eyes widened and he made a mock-shocked face. "You know the song to the one-hit-wonder-artist! I'm impressed!"

"More like Flint secretly loved that song!" James' voice called back to them. Flint's chest, where it was showing through the black V-neck, turned red. Kurt's eyes were magnetically drawn there before he looked back at the wall, the very tips of his ears pink. Flint pretended not to notice either detail, since Kurt was being nice enough not to comment on the very immaculateness of Mickey. He'd been 12, okay?

He cleared his throat. "So why are there holes in here?" He pointed to a few spots.

Kurt looked at him strangely. "Holes?" He took a deeper look, his face getting close to Flint's as he peered at the photos as well. He made a small sound of disbelief as he straightened, and Flint stood as well, watching Kurt's face with a very focused gaze. Kurt pointed to the first picture Flint had noticed, the one of him and the dark girl laughing. "Mercedes. My best friend. She must have taken them down when she, Ra—Kurt glared. Oh, no. I'm gonna kill that girl."

"What? That Rachel girl?" Flint remembered Kurt telling them about the girl Blaine had kissed—Rachel something, right?

"Yep. Those photos were ones that had Blaine in them. Hell, one of my favorites was one at the GAP, where Alex, Nick and Jeff had gone into the baby section, and next thing you know half of us were making cute faces at the camera with the things in their hands! Oh, I'm gonna kill her! I want that picture back!"

"Not the other ones?" Ben asked, turning around and entering the conversation at last.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I could care less about the other ones! Adam was holding a TRIBBLE! And Jeff's face! And Alex's cheeks! It took FOREVER to get them to settle down just enough to take a picture! I'm gonna kill that little—"

"Whoa! Easy there!" James had paused the game now and was pointing at Jeff. "He's got a copy! We have the technology! We _can _rebuild it!"

Kurt turned a very, very frosty look to James, but Alex—chipmunk dimples prominently displayed for maximum adorableness—jumped up to throw his arms over the back of the couch and look at Kurt with big eyes. "I have the photos as well! You can have my copies!"

Kurt sighed, trying to hold his anger together against the face of such innocent cuteness. "Alex, put those cheeks away," he relented. "They're dangerous. I might puke rainbows at you if you continue to beam that smile at me."

Alex just beamed some more, and jumped up, grabbing the wallflowers and dragging them into the mess of teenage boys. Jeff was already grabbing a game, yelling, "WAR!" and Flint was grinning from ear to ear. Call of Duty started up, and Kurt sat down in between Flint and James.

"Alright, someone hand me a controller."

Silence.

Five faces turned as one to stare, open-mouthed like trout swimming upstream.

"Shut up. All of you. And just for that, I will massacre each one of you without mercy." He grabbed James' remote, and in his shock, the boy didn't even protest.

Flint gaped. No. _No. _There was no _conceivable _way that Kurt just _thrashed _them all.

Jeff whimpered, covering his eyes with his hand and trying to get rid of the controller to someone behind him with the other appendage.

Ben chuckled, not surprised that he was surprised. You never knew what Kurt was going to do.

The boy in question was sitting back against the couch, arms behind his head, sighing contentedly. "I told you."

"You...you killed us all. You didn't even have to respawn _once_." Flint stared in half-awe, half-despair as he turned to look at Kurt.

The boy just raised a brow mockingly. "What? I can't be fashion-sensible _and_ game-savvy?"

"No." The resounding answer made Kurt laugh.

"Take that, bitches. Read it and _weep _in despair of your puny skills."

"We've seen Snarky!Kurt, Diva!Kurt, Sensible!Kurt, Giggling!Kurt, and Speechless!Kurt, thanks to Flint," both boys blushed, "but now we're seeing Dominant!Kurt... what was the word David used?"

"Endearing."

"Yes. That's it! Now we're seeing Dom!Kurt!" Alex was _far_ too cheerful to be talking about something to do with the whole dom/sub topic.

Kurt was flaming red now, from the tips of his ears to his collarbones. Which Flint was now noticing, due to the change in color, had been revealed by the slipping of a sweater far too big for him.

Flint couldn't drag his eyes from it—what the hell was that about? It was a shoulder... attached to the rest of him... Flint didn't start to get all hot under the metaphorical collar when he saw Kurt's arm, so what was all this about the clavicle?

Jeff was suddenly knocked into him, _hard_, and since Flint was unprepared, he flopped sideways, waving his arms crazily like a penguin about to take flight, but it served as little purpose for him as it did the poor bird, and he went tumbling sideways—into Kurt's lap. Like a domino effect, Kurt went down as well, but James was smart enough to scramble out of the way when he saw Jeff go down. So now Kurt was flat on his back and Flint's cheek was nestled right in the smack-dab center of Kurt's chest, one arm sprawled so it was on top of Kurt's, and the other had tried to brace himself from falling... by placing his hand on Kurt's hip. _Low _on Kurt's hip. So now Flint was molded very _intimately_ to Kurt's body, and heard the thump-thump of Kurt's heartbeat pick up.

The squeal that erupted startled both of them. Flint hadn't realized—in his _oh my god I'm plastered over Kurt Hummel _daze—that Jeff had landed on him sort of like he had landed on Kurt... except Jeff's head had been padded by Flint's back pocket... which was molded to his ass in this position. So Jeff, straight man that he was, squealed like a little girl and started rubbing his cheek against his sleeve, but when that wasn't enough, he raced over to use Ben's sleeve, who promptly shoved the boy towards Alex. Jeff's eyes lit up as he saw the mass of hair available for dispersing the Flint-ass-cooties, and he dove towards the curls. Alex somehow _knew_, in that split second of time he had to see Jeff's face, what he was going to do, and Alex squeaked and kicked his feet up in the air like a squirming toddler. One kick landed on Jeff's jaw, another knocked the breath out of him as it caught him in the solar plexus, and the last blow landed in an even _more _sensitive area. The breathless shriek rose to such a pitch that Kurt's inner countertenor was made proud.

However, the _rest_ of Kurt was laughing and trying to untangle himself from six feet of Flint. They were laughing so hard they were crying, though, and James was rolling on the floor next to them, and ended up kicking Kurt in the head. Which somehow only made everyone laugh harder.

By the time Kurt finally was able to roll out from under Flint, he was laughing so hard he wasn't making any sound, and Flint was wiping tears from his eyes.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," Ben kept saying, and was wiping his cheeks, face completely red.

"I _hate_ you all!" Jeff groaned, and sent Flint back into laughing.

"Holy shit, your face!" Flint choked for air. "Your face is _priceless_. Quick, someone, get a camera!"

James shook his head. "Fuck the camera, get him some _ice_. A lot of it! He's gonna be black and blue tomorrow!"

"It's what you get for trying to use my hair for that!"

Silence reigned for a moment as everyone's minds just went south—they were, after all, a group of teenage boys.

Laughter erupted once more as Alex now protected his hair close to his head. "_Not for that!_" He looked horrified. "I'm sleeping with one eye open, you sick perverts!"

Kurt wiped his eyes on his sleeves. "Holy gaga. I think I broke something!"

"Actually, I think Flint did when he face-planted on you," James said with a grin and a waggle of eyebrows.

Jeff snapped out of his crushed-nut-stupor. "Somebody grab his shirt! We gotta find out if we can see the indent Flint's chin made on Kurt's ribs!"

Kurt grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it firmly down. Flint let out an indignant, "Shut up!" before turning back.

Goddammit, those shoulders were peaking out again. Flint ripped his gaze back to Jeff and glared. "If it weren't for the fact that you're going to need testicle retrieval, I'd so kick you myself right now. It's _not_ that har—" he caught himself, but it was too late. He was turning bright red, the V in between the fabric of his shirt bright, flaming red. Even Ben was sent crying again. "You guys _suck_!"

"Oh, hunny, you shouldn't be saying that right now, especially when you just admitted that it wasn't that—" Kurt couldn't finish, because Flint had scrambled like a chicken so he could cover Kurt's mouth with one giant hand. Not that it would have mattered, because no one but Flint would have heard anyway.

Kurt collapsed against Flint, his head shaking against Flint's shoulder as he laughed. Flint suddenly realized that when he had moved to quiet the smaller boy, he had inadvertently wrapped himself around the boy, his much longer legs curled around him and one arm squeezing the breath out of him like an accordion while the other was wrapped around him to half-smother him. Which put Kurt very, very, _very _close.

"Boys, pizza's her—" Burt broke off as he looked at the laughing, the tears, and the boy wrapped around his son with his hand over his mouth.

"I'm sorry, sir," Flint said in a dead-even voice, "but your son is not allowed to talk anymore. My ears are _still _red!" He removed his arm from around Kurt to point to his, indeed, still flamingly red ears.

Burt shook his head, hands going up to his own ears. "I don't wanna know. Just grab the pizza and go back to what you were doing." He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like _not ready for that _and went upstairs, shaking his head.

Kurt was wide-eyed, just before bursting into laughter. "—ay—oh—in," could be heard from behind Flint's hand. Kurt's brows drew down, knowing that he obviously wasn't being heard—

And the next thing everyone saw, Flint's hand was flying away from the countertenor's mouth and he was shouting a surprised shriek. "He licked me!"

"I thought you said it wasn't that har—" Jeff was booted from behind by Ben—for the second time that night.

Kurt looked contemplative, nodded. "Salty," he said, and then stood up like nothing had happened. "I'm starving! Let's get the pizza already!" James scrambled, and the pair raced for the stairwell—Kurt beating James by a split second, but only because he had gotten up first. Otherwise, him and his skin-tight pants would have been the undeniable second one.

Ben waited until the other two had gone up before helping Flint off the floor. "Think of it this way—if it were Jeff or James, he would have bitten them."

Flint was still bright red. "And you and Alex?" he asked.

Ben shrugged. "No one would dare bite Alex—he's too cute. It'd be like kicking a puppy. As for me..." he shrugged. "What can I say? I'm just that good."

Flint ducked his head. "What's that say about me?" he mumbled.

The shorter of the pair chuckled softly. "Flint. You're his yummy cheesecake. That should say enough." He walked away, leaving Flint and his flaming-panda-thoughts to rub the back of his neck and fiddle with the neck of the hem of his shirt, tugging idly. After shaking out of it and chiding himself on being such a girl, he thumped up the stairs quickly, attracted by the scent of cheese wafting down the stairs.

"Oh... my... god..." He stared with unadulterated lust...

At the three very large pizzas before him. Alex grinned, slapping him on the back, and handed him a plate. Flint then proceeded to grab two slices of each, and astound his host by eating every one, then going back for seconds.

"Holy shit! How much do you _eat_?" He put down his one slice and stared.

"Shuddup," he mumbled, covering his mouth with his hand.

Ben turned to the Evil Twins with a look of horror. "Please tell me he's not going to sprout up like a weed again!"

James looked over him thoughtfully, then pinched Flint's arm and tugged. Flint jumped and yelped, swatting the mean hand away with a glare. James shook his head. "I don't think so. Remember last time his skin was so stretchy? And he hasn't been bitching about how everything aches, so I think we're safe."

Kurt laughed. "He's only the same height as my brother. It's not that big of a deal. It's not like he's Shaq or anything."

"Dude, you don't get it. He grew out of _nowhere_! He just..." Jeff waved his arms above his head in a manic way, "_sprouted! Overnight! _And he didn't _get_ that he was that big, so the next time we got a little rowdy, he ended up tackling me and giving me a concussion and a bruised rib!"

Flint turned red again. "I said I was really, really sorry for that, didn't I?" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, well if you grew again, I'd end up in a coma with a broken femur!"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Drama queen."

This started a round of laughter at Jeff's horrified face.

"Did you _seriously_ just call _me _a drama queen?"

"If the shoe fits."

"Oh, it's so on, Prada Princess!" Jeff proceeded to chase Kurt around the kitchen, but Kurt was smarter and backed himself behind Alex, but the curly-haired boy squeaked and dove towards Ben, he changed his mind and was barely able to pin himself between Flint's back and the counter before Jeff nabbed him. As it was, Flint's mouth made a perfect O and his eyes flew wide as he was pressed very firmly against Kurt's front. His face flamed and Jeff had to lean against James, he was laughing so hard again. It was actually quite funny to see the contrast between his blond hair and bright red skin, but everyone's attention was really on Flint.

"Uhm... Kurt... you might want to release Flint. I don't think he's every been _quite that close_ before." Alex's even, light tone just made Flint cover his face with his hands as Kurt peaked his head out from behind him and looked closely.

It was only _then_ that he seemed to get it. "Oh!" He dashed out from behind the tall boy, trying to look _not_ totally embarrassed. "Well... that's—um... I wasn't quite thinking of... oh, would you just shut up?" He gave up, and covered his cheeks with his palms. "Sheesh, you guys are horrible! It wasn't like I was trying to dance with him!"

"Actually, I'm really, _really_ sure that if that were the case, Flint would be the big spoon!" James pointed out, forefinger raised and pointing between the two, finger raising as it went to Flint and then lowering as it traveled to Kurt.

"_Ohmygod!_ We are _not_ talking spoons while eating!" Flint tugged his hair, making it stick up even more, and his eyes practically bugged out of his head. As it was, he was having a bit of an issue keeping a certain issue _down_.

"Alright, alright. Enough pillow talk during dinner!" Ben smoothed the way, turning to grin just the _slightest_ bit at Flint before turning back to Kurt. "Kurt, you never told us how you managed to single-handedly _murder _everyone downstairs."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Puh-lease. When Finn gets the guys from glee club together, all they _ever _ do is play that game. And besides, I am Marc Jacobs, not Prada."

Jeff turned to Flint. "Translate, please?"

Flint looked affronted. "What? Are you kidding me? How the hell would I know?"

"Uhm... cause you're so colorful?" Jeff smiled a cheesy smile.

"I play football, soccer, basketball and baseball. Being gay has _nothing_ to do with that."

Kurt nodded. "I was on the football team at McKinley. Although I still don't think I broke the stereotype they expected."

Heads turned. "Say _what_?" James said.

Kurt arched a brow. "Kicker. One season. One game, actually. I won them the only game that season."

Alex grinned and thumped him on the back, nearly sending Kurt into the pizza.

"Wow. Was _not _expecting that!" Jeff said, shaking his head.

Kurt just laughed. "There's a _lot _you wouldn't be expecting."

"Oh, so is it that h—" James was cut off when Ben smacked the back of his head.

"Can we just put away the hard jokes?" the latter Warbler asked, brow arched.

"I second that. And on that note, let's go downstairs." There was groaning in response to Kurt's suggestion. "No Call of Duty, I swear! Once was enough. It's taken us an _hour _to get down from that. I'll even let you pick. Or there's movies!"

"Dibs on Disney!" Alex yelled, already racing down the stairs.

Five boys raced down the stairs after him—they, too, wanted in on the manly choices between Aladdin and Lion King.

And thus was how Burt Hummel had to come downstairs at 12:30 am to hush the pack of boys. Not to scold them for wrestling too hard and breaking something, but because they had broken up into a six-part harmony of _He Lives in You_.

Even he had to admit, however, that it was nice to wake up to music for a change, rather than the sound of something shattering.

* * *

**_A/N: _**_I truly, truly hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm trying to take it a little slow for them, but not so slow that it drives everyone nuts. My muse seems to know where she's going, but I am just like, _Oh, hey that's cool, let's go in this direction that I had no idea was there! _So yes! We will see where this goes! I'm actually really hoping Flint makes a move soon, cause I'm chomping at the bits like, COME ONE MUSE LET'S GO ALREADY! LET'S GET SOME BOY-BOY CUTENESS! I WANT SOME FLIRT ALREADY DAMMIT! But she's just doing her own thing... Actually, I went back to hulu and watched the last episode, and OMG it works out perfectly with this-well, up until the kiss, you know. I had to cheer myself up after writing the last chapter, cause damn, poor Blaine. I'm a total Kurt ship whore, he's just too fine. I mean damn, he could go for Blaine, David, Flint, hell, I read a Nick/Kurt fic and was like OMG THIS IS UNF-FANTASTIC! But yeah, if you have time, go back and watch the episode and you'll notice things that I didn't first-hand. My muse is seriously on a roll with this. Major kudos to her, cause Ben's face fit PERFECTLY with what she said! _

_So yes, my ducklings, this is the latest installment! Let's all cross our fingers for some FLIRT next chapter at last! If there's enough of us wanting it, I'm sure we can overrun THE MUSE and get some luvins for our boys! XD _

_Love you all so much and thanks for reading!_ ~Kasha


	6. Chapter 6: The Show Goes On

**_A/N: _**_Okay, guys! A quickie before the real stuff! XD I'm so sorry for the wait. With finals and then the break my brain was like, "OMG... sleep..." and my muse was like, "OMG... sleep..." So the wait! But I'm working really hard on giving you guys a really good chapter up next! FLIRT IS ON THE MOVE... after this short cute cut scene. ^^_

* * *

"Dude, you have to say something!"

"_Dude, _no, I don't."

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"Did you honestly just ask that?" Silence. "Okay, think of it for a moment. I admit that hey, I check his ass out way too often for the 'just friends' sort of guy, I get tongue-tied and speechless every time he looks at me—"

"With those beautiful eyes, yeah, yeah, move on to something I _haven't_ already heard a couple dozen times. Each day." Malevolent silence. A huffed sigh. "Fine, continue."

"No, no, since you've already heard it all, why don't _you _tell _me."_

"Wow. I never thought _you _would be the bitch in the—_OW! You fucking bastard!" _

Evil laughter echoed softly. "I am _not _a bitch."

"You are too! And what _is _it with you and my costal cartilage?" he (squealed like a little girl) shouted. "I'd like some ribs _attached_, you know!"

"Then quit saying things that you know will get you hurt," a third voice monotoned.

Mumbling ensued.

"And you called _me_ a bitch? You're the one whining like a— "

"What I think he's _trying_ to say, is that you'll never know unless you... broaden the boundaries."

"I like the boundaries where they are now, thank you very much."

"If you did, my ribs wouldn't hurt. Cause _this, _this abuse of my ribcage, is due to more sexual tension than Kirk and Spock."

"I can't believe you're that much of a nerd."

"Shut up. You're the one that introduced me to it. I haven't been able to watch Star Trek the same ever since. So just shut up, you sla—"

"Do not _even_ go there, or your false ribs will be mine."

"I kind of need those 8th-12th pairs, you know."

"Then keep quiet."

There was the distinct sound of a book snapping shut. "_Boys_," came the voice that all mothers recognize. "Cease and desist already. Flint, either grow a pair or stop inflicting the rest of us with how wonderful Kurt is. We _know _how beautiful his eyes are, how perfect his skin is, how nice he is. What we _don't_ want to know is how well his pants conform to his anatomy."

"Or how you imagine his torso looks like beneath the uniform in the glow of candles or moonlight, enhancing the ethereal sheen to his— " a voice quipped.

Kurt walked into the room, completely clueless as to the conversation that had gone on just before. He noticed that—as usual—Flint's ears were bright pink, his neck was _literally _red, and his face was trying to become a tomato. Kurt sighed and wondered what they were teasing him about now.

"Look at him. He's always blushing. Would you guys quit bothering him already?"

Ben raised an eyebrow in a very expressive manner. "Stop teasing him? Never." He flipped his wrist dismissively. "Nevermind that, though. What brings you to our corner of the student body so early?"

"Actually, I need help." He looked both excited and nervous at the same time.

Ben looked at him, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, the larger boy prompted, "With..."

Kurt burst forward with his words, the syllables falling together in a rush. "Idon'twanttodothisduet."

"Pardon?"

"I don't want to do this duet. With Blaine."

There was silence for a moment. But after that brief second of pure _shock _upon hearing that Kurt Elizabeth Hummel didn't want a solo, James lunged forward, quickly followed by Alex, both of whom circled his shoulders comfortingly and crooned to him that it would be okay, he'd be fine, he just needed some rest and some Vitamin C, that's all.

Jeff and Flint continued to stare at Kurt, until Jeff turned to stare at Flint, and Flint turned to stare at Ben. _Didn't want his chance to be in the spotlight? _It was... blasphemous... a heinous crime... something never to be spoken of. _Ever._

Kurt managed to untangle himself from the oreo sandwich that he'd been a part of, escaping the dark boys' arms with much difficulty. "Guys, guys, _guys!" _He managed to shut them up, after much raising of his voice and slapping of their encroaching tentacle-hands. Sheesh they had no sense of _no touchie_. "I just don't think it'd be a good idea. Especially after I went all DivaBitch!Kurt on him. It seems like it would be rubbing it in to do all of these practices with him now."

Ben nodded, his gaze turning inwards. "Regionals is coming up quickly, though. You'll need all the practice you can get. And the council won't be so forgiving of conflicting reasons. Well, David might, but Wes and Thad? Not a chance. It's business, to them. The show must go on."

Kurt looked crestfallen. Ben was right. There was a higher chance of Wes opting to beat him to death with his (lover) gavel before changing a decision chosen by not only the council, but the rest of the Warblers. He was _screwed_.

"But if someone were to be with you when you practiced... you know, play backup, both vocally and emotionally..."

Kurt perked up, his head snapping upwards, eyes regaining that glint hope. "Would that work?"

A brow raised once more, and the cherubic Warbler smiled knowingly. "What would there be to protest? There would be another ear to keep you both on pitch, give you an outsider's vocal view-point, per se. And then there's the advantage of a ringmaster, in case something goes wrong and you two happen to be on opposing sides of a matter."

Kurt scuffed his shoe. "Who would want to spend their free time in a practice room filled with awkward... awkwardness?"

Jeff's whole body started to vibrate with energy now. "Flint!"

The Warbler in question looked shocked. "What? Me?"

"Kurt, Flint is _awesome _with music! He's one of the people who sets up all the different parts!"

The coiffed Warbler turned to Flint now. "You...what?"

Flint's tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, and his gaze seemed caught on Kurt.

Jeff made up for his silence, thank god. He rushed on, "He's the one who listens to the music and picks out all the little parts. From there, he and Bailey work on putting it onto sheet music for the rest of us."

"That's you?"

"Whoa. Mrs. Smith much?"

Kurt's head snapped back to James, his expression clearing of interest, then transforming into confusion. "What?"

"Your face. It was like Angelina Jolie in _Mr. and Mrs. Smith_, in that part where they're at the diner and the Spare Dude talks with Brad about that one kill they did, and Angelina looks at Brad with that look and asks the exact thing you just did, in the exact way!"

Kurt blinked.

"Don't look at me like that, you've watched it a dozen times, don't even try to deny it."

"I was more of a _Last Holiday_ fan that year."

"That poor little doctor will be traumatized for _life_." The words were out of Flint's mouth before he could stop them.

Kurt smiled, and it was so ridiculously, unconsciously sexy that certain parts of Flint's anatomy wanted to go into postmortem rigor mortis right there. "You know your movies," he said in a voice that was so distinctively _Sexy!Kurt_, with the bedroom voice and eyes and that _skin_... Flint's brain melted in his skull, leaving him thinking nothing more complex than _unf _and _hngh._

"Oh, man, I love that movie!" Alex chirped, and Kurt's attention was distracted momentarily.

Jeff took full advantage and wiped his sleeve across Flint's chin. "Dude, you're drooling."

Flint jolted, freaking out, and nearly tackled the smaller boy when he started laughing. "Shutupshutupshutup!"

"Jeff, what did you do now?" Kurt's attention had been drawn by the noise once more, and Flint paused in his intent to murder his best friend.

"What he always does—teases Flint."

"There's nothing wrong with that movie, shock-and-blond."

Ben sighed. "It wasn't the movie he was debating. Regardless, I think we should get back to the topic on hand—no thanks to James." He sent a quick glare to the easily distracting Warbler. "Duet. You. Blaine. Chaperoned."

"Eww."

Ben looked at Alex with as much patience as any mother could. He was just so... adorable, yet exhausting. "Not for those reasons, dear."

"Oh." He perked up again like a dog and even nodded his head from side to side, like his hair was his tail and it needed to wag just once.

Ben pinched the bridge of his nose. "Moving on. I think it would be a wise idea to have Flint there. We were all present to witness the GAP Attack, so we know how far Blaine is willing to go to impress someone, and in this case, who knows what his reaction will be. So, in the event that he decides to try to up the ante for Kurt's affections, another person is a good precaution."

"And even if he doesn't, Flint can still be there for support. And if that's not needed, he's really handy to have around."

"A Pocket Flint?" Kurt asked sardonically.

Flint's mind—and the rest of the groups'—went to the gutter with that, although he would never admit it.

James was the first one to chuckle, then Jeff, and the two cracked up.

"Oh, shut up, I didn't mean it like that. Anyway, I think it'd be a really good idea. Plus, if Flint's there, and we're working on parts, I might actually be able to hear Flint sing for once!"

Flint's gaze was lost somewhere between Narnia and just beyond the wall.

"... Or not."

Jeff and James snorted, the former elbowing Flint. The larger male snapped out of it and shook his head, clearing it of thoughts about how he'd like to be Kurt's pocket Flint... in Kurt's pocket in at all..."Sorry, I spaced out for a second. What?"

"You. Being there. Good idea." _Oh my god, what? Had he said any of that out loud? _"At. The. Practice. Blaine. Kurt. You." James was speaking overly clearly, and Flint narrowed his eyes. The darker evil twin was smarter than his pigment-lacking counterpart, however, and backed out of reach just in case a foot decided to attempt to connect with his shin.

"Gee, thanks," he said drolly. He looked back to Kurt, and his gaze turned thoughtful. "I honestly don't think he'll try anything, though."

The group looked surprised, as a whole. Kurt looked more puzzled. "Why?"

Flint ran a hand through his hair. "As much of a jackass as he is, he seems pretty reasonable. I mean, all front-man-con-artist shmooze aside, he's actually kinda loyal. With obvious lapses," he added quickly when several among the group readied to rally to Kurt's defense. He looked at the slim countertenor now, keeping his gaze so Kurt would know he was sincere. "He was a total, complete jackass to you, Kurt. There's no excuse for how he treated you." He took a deep breath, and looked at the rest of them. "But think of how close he, David and Wes are. It takes a lot to get Wes to open up, and David was equally closed-off freshman year, although he's never been the ice-queen sort. So for those two to have let him in so far, to be such an integral part of their support system, shows something about his friendships. He has to be dependable for those two to open up to him."

Silence reigned for a long minute.

"So you don't think he'll try anything?" Ben asked.

Flint shook his head, expression still serious. "No, not really. Not along the lines that you guys are thinking, anyway. I don't think he'll try to make a move on you, if that's what you were worried about."

Kurt sighed and sank down next to him, so close their shoulders were touching. Flint patted his knee comfortingly.

"I think he'll try to apologize. Because regardless of whether or not he aimed to, he hurt you. A lot. And he had no frigging clue how much until you told him so yesterday."

"You mean exploded all over him?"

Flint chuckled, shrugging and pulling his mouth to one side comically. "Maybe. But it needed to happen. He hadn't gotten your side of all that's happened. He'd been wrapped up in himself, too busy with his own drama, and then all of the sudden it's like there's this whole other side of things, where he's the bad guy. Not that he meant to be," he said quickly when Kurt opened his mouth to argue, "but his actions put him in the wrong." He paused, and thought for a long moment. "I think that, by now at least, he's realized how much of a douche he was. So he's going to try to apologize. And apologize, and apologize, and apologize, until you're completely sick of hearing it."

Kurt groaned, and thumped his head against the bed they were sitting by. "Any way to avoid this? Because if there is _any _way to get around that awkward part, I'm game."

Flint made a face again. "Sorry. That's unavoidable. But, being the front man he is, if there's someone else there, he'll try to act more professional if there's an outside party involved."

Kurt nodded. "Alright. Consider yourself contracted, then."

"Wai—what?" Flint blinked, making Kurt laugh.

"Your logic is undeniable. So I'm agreeing—and you're going."

Flint wrinkled his nose. "The things I get myself into."

Kurt patted his knee before standing. "Well, I should probably go and do homework now, because I don't think I'll be in the mood for it afterwards." He looked down at Flint. "See you later?"

Flint was caught by those blue-green-grey eyes again and found himself nodding and smiling. "Sure thing."

Kurt's smile stretched wide, and it made Flint melt that much more. "Wonderful! Well, I'll see you at 5:30 then!"

"Yeah. Great. Awesome."

The sound of Kurt's laughter diminished as he headed out the door and down the hallway to his own dorm room.

The sound of chuckles erupting into full-blown laughter, however, grew inside the small room.

"'Yeah, great, awesome,'" Jeff mimed, and rocked his shoulder into Flint's. "Real articulate, dude."

"Shutup," Flint mumbled, turning pink.

"You do know what this means, right?"

Flint looked up at Ben, and shook his head.

"You have time to spend together with Kurt."

"Anderson's going to be there, though." Flint looked at Jeff, gaze questioning. Had he missed something? Had the lead Warbler taken a sudden vacation?

Ben and Alex looked at each other and grinned. Their little 'talk' with Blaine had consisted of Kurt needing time alone, among other things. Now that Kurt had blown up at him, they figured Blaine would give Kurt at least a few days to stop being quite so mad at him.

Which meant time spent _alone _between Flint and Kurt.

Operation: Flirt was finally about to begin...


	7. Chapter 7: Just The Way You Are

Flint had his headphones in, listening to a song that he couldn't wait to get started on. This was what he loved the most about music—that moment when all other noise from the outside world was blocked out, the sound was at just the right volume and it was like the noise was coming from _inside _ his head. Each little beat was separate, different from the rest, each note queuing into his brain and right there for him to pick up. In his head, he could already here each of the parts split out among the Warblers, could already tell which of the guys was going to be doing what at which time. He could already see Jeff getting into the music, could see the blond doing a little dance when he found out which song Flint had an idea for. Wes wouldn't be entirely onto the idea, because it would be difficult, and Flint may have an alternate agenda for wanting to do this song, but this one just felt _right_. It was deep in his gut now, how perfect this song was. It was one of those moments when there was just so much feeling in a song that it was pouring into his stomach like a balloon being filled with water, until he didn't think he could take anymore without bursting into a zillion gigantic pieces.

His face was stretched into a grin so wide it was threatening to split his cheeks.

He was so into the song, the notes, the crescendos and the smooth glide at the top, that the tap on his shoulder made him jump off the piano bench.

"Holy shit!" He whipped off his earbuds and turned with eyes blown wide open to look at the troublemaker behind him.

Kurt was trying not to laugh, it was apparent, but it was equally clear that he was failing. That (undeniably adorable) smile crinkled his nose and lit his eyes. "You really get into it, don't you?"

Flint—whose hand was pressed against his heart to try to stop the thumping—blushed. "I think I found a new song for the Warblers, so yeah, I was a bit into it."

The stylish countertenor in front of him cocked his head to the side just that sliver of space, and it was enough to give him an air of curiosity and elegant sexiness. How he pulled it off with just that segment of movement, Flint had no clue. "What song?"

Flint leaned back against the piano, tall enough that he didn't have to reach all that much to put his elbows over the keys to the woodwork above them. "Like I'd tell you after you stole ten years off my life. If I go prematurely grey, I'll know who to turn to."

Kurt put a hand on his hip. "If I turn anyone prematurely grey, it won't be cause I scare someone," he said sassily.

Flint laughed. "What are you now, an incubus?"

That pert nose sniffed delicately. "You'll never know."

The taller boy laughed again, and scooched over so Kurt could sit beside him. Flint watched with amused interest as the slender boy sat, smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles out of his clothes, and crossed his legs primly before turning predominantly green eyes on him. Flint wondered why they were this shade today, and jumped a little when the words slipped out like they'd been buttered by his mind to be slid smoothly straight out of out his mouth.

Kurt's head turned to the side now, one up-tilted eye more visible than the other. Flint recognized it as being an unconscious move, both protective and alluring at the same time, because it kept a little of his face from being shown like it was keeping a part of him from being open to anyone else, yet the slant of his eyes raised just enough to be provocative. Flint wondered what was going on in his head.

This time he _consciously_ chose to ask that, thank you very much.

The elegant Warbler took his time, thinking each word in how he would phrase his response. "I was just thinking that I'm... not used to having someone notice very much about me. Not like that, anyway. I think that I tend to overwhelm people—I dress bold, I act bold, I speak bold, I _am_ bold. I think that tends to make people only look at the surface—they see what I'm wearing, take a glance at my face, listen to me talk for a moment, and think that's enough to tell whether or not I'm okay for the day. And that's okay, really," he added quickly, leaning in to his words. Flint could tell it was automatic habit to make sure that he wasn't complaining. He wondered in that flick of a pause if Kurt had ever had anyone he could rely on to tell all of his problems to, the really deep ones that rooted into his brain. But then the moment was over, and Kurt was continuing. "I don't mind—it gives me space to work things out for myself. But when someone says something—like you just did—when they notice... I don't know..." he bit his lip, pausing and thinking even more. "I don't know how to take that. What am I supposed to say, Flint?"

The Warbler in question swallowed thickly at the vulnerability in Kurt's eyes, the green being overwhelmed by blue once again. Flint realized how stressed and out-of-place Kurt must always feel, for the blue to always be so dominant in his eyes. Because when Kurt had first walked in—actually, Flint amended mentally, it was when Kurt had first scared the bejeezus out of him—his eyes had been so green, the inner ring spreading out so those eyes were a brilliant, intense green-blue, not what it was now, with the blue crowding in on the thing ring of green, the blue lightening to a grey color.

Flint couldn't help but move closer to the smaller boy, his hand coming to rest on Kurt's. His grasp was firm, steady, and when he looked into Kurt's eyes, he felt like, for the first time, he was able to have that moment he'd wished for—that moment you _finally_ get with the person you like, and something clicks and you both notice it, and you finally have time alone to see where it goes.

"Kurt, we care, your friends care. I care. You're not just a...a fashion symbol, although you do that really well. You have feelings, you have worries, brilliant ideas, stupid random thoughts that pop out of nowhere, a wicked sense of humor. You're one of the most talented people I know—and not just musically. You're voice is beautiful, but so is your mind. You think so much it hurts my brain to _watch_ you sometimes, because I can see your figuring something out at a pace that both amazes and confuses me, because I work with my here," he spread his free hand over his chest, "not here," he pointed his first finger against Kurt's forehead before letting his hand fall back to his thigh. His gaze stayed steady on Kurt's, serious and sincere. "Kurt, you are one of the most caring people I've ever met. It makes me..." he huffed out a breath, looking away before being torn back to look at Kurt. His own brown eyes were frustrated, both confused and affectionate. "It makes me so mad, sometimes, how you put yourself out there so much, and are okay with getting so little back. You deserve more than that, Kurt."

Kurt's eyes were watering by now, and Flint couldn't do anything _but_ reach out and pull him close. Kurt was stunned for a moment, going completely still for that split second, but his arms came up and wrapped around Flint's ribs with surprising strength, and his face burrowed into Flint's chest. Flint couldn't speak, there was a solid bubble lodged in his throat so large he couldn't even clear his throat. He lowered his head to his arms, which were wrapped around Kurt's shoulders, and held him just as tightly.

They stayed like that, no words strong enough to convey what the emotions waiting to burst inside of them at that moment. _This _was what music was for. So that this moment, when _nothing_ else can describe that feeling of being on just this edge of free-falling, being filled with molten lead that's thick and hard but in a good way, filled-water balloon, sinking like a rock—_all _of those feelings and _so much_ more are what music was born for. That was the way to get it all out so it doesn't kill you from the inside out with so much emotion.

Flint blinked back tears that he would never admit (even he, with the flaming panda, has a sliver of pride, you know!) and put his hands on Kurt's shoulders, leaning back enough to look at him, at the green spreading over the blue again. "We're turning into girls," he said with a somber-yet-horrified attitude that cracked the tension.

Kurt hugged him once more, a quick, impulsive squeeze that lifted Flint's little heart right out of his chest for a moment. "Thanks, Flint."

"For what? Inverting my boys so I can have ovaries for three minutes?"  
More laughter escaped Kurt and he shook his head. "No! Eww, god no. Although 'Cedes would probably say that's a gift." Flint chuckled as the proud, pleased look of Kurt's Aretha R-E-S-P-E-C-T friend came to mind.

"I'm at a loss for what's so in need of thanking, then."

Kurt took Flint's hand this time, with his fingers curling into Flint's palm and his thumb laying against the back of the bigger boy's hand. "For noticing. For speaking up. But mostly for just being you."

Flint felt the blush coming up his chest, and wondered how it was that he could have that deep conversation with Kurt, initiate the initial hand-holding, and even _hug_ Kurt, yet when Kurt talked and Kurt held _his_ hand, he instantly turned tomato.

Kurt laughed as he ducked his head. The countertenor was obviously watching the army of red blood cells ascending his neck, then his face, until the encroaching enemy had conquered his face up to his hairline and filled his ears with the tinted color. It was also obvious that Kurt was enjoying the show very much.

Putz.

Kurt laughed even harder, and Flint realized that in his misery once again something had been buttered up and launched out of his mouth without ordering it.

Correction: Flint was no longer Flint, and no longer Tomato!Flint, but somewhere along the line of Pomegranate!Flint. Permanently.

"Would you shut up?" he mumbled, and Kurt made a valiant effort to smother himself.

"I'm sorry. Poor thing. I'm not laughing at you, really... okay, maybe a little... I'll stop. Now come on." He jumped up, pulling on Flint's hands, which was actually rather funny, because Flint was built quite a bit bigger than Kurt and so the effort was futile. Flint grinned, his red cheeks coming up as he leaned back lazily. Kurt made a show of straining himself to try to tug Flint off the seat. "_Fliiiint_," he whined/groaned, and somewhere in the back of Flint's mind there was a part that went _oh, do that again, hunny, and I promise to do what you want. _Whatever _you want_. Flint shoved that down mercilessly.

He groaned as he got up, and Kurt moued. "Poor thing," he mocked, and then grinned. "Come on. Let's go!"

"Where are we going?"

"Dinner."

Flint's brow lowered. "But supper ended about 15 minutes ago, at least."

"Yes, Flint," Kurt's voice was patronizing, "I had noticed this."

Flint rolled his eyes, knocking his arm into Kurt's shoulder. "Alright, then, smarty-pants. Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you out to dinner."

Flint stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide. "Wai-what?"

Kurt bit his lip, obviously warring with wanting to be brave and wanting to protect himself from putting himself out too far. "Me. You. Dinner."

Flint was amazed and humbled at the same time. After what had been said, he'd figured Kurt would want some alone time to recenter himself, to have some relief of being back in his comfort zone. But he always did what Flint _didn't_ expect, and so he'd opened himself up even more, reaching for all that life could give him. With everything that had happened, it could have been so easy for life to kick him down at that moment, and yet he'd still opened himself up and left himself vulnerable.

Flint swallowed thickly, and nodded. "I'd like that. A lot. I'd actually say I'd love to, but I think I'll keep a little of my testes, if you don't mind."

Kurt laughed and nodded. "I think I can make due with just 'like'... for now." He slid Flint a sly look, and Flint noticed two things: the first being that Kurt Hummel was undeniably the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. _Ever_. And two, that Kurt's eyes were so green. His answering smile was so wide, because he knew that that green was because of him. Kurt was happy because of what'd he'd said and done, and Flint felt more than a little happy and proud of himself.

Then he noticed that Kurt had said he'd make due with just 'like'... for _now_. Flint felt his heart thump faster and harder, and he swallowed and grinned at the same time.

"Bring it, Hummel."

* * *

"Oh, Wilson, you have no idea what you just got yourself into..."

On the other side of the wall, scurrying away before the pair opened the door, was a group who had cried, smothered their laughter and now were doing silent but exuberant happy dances.

Operation: FLIRT was so very close to succeeding...

* * *

**_A/N: _**_I hope everyone liked this! It was very fun to write, but really frigging hard! Getting the **exact** right words for describing something, it's a definite form of art, and I really respect authors who capture the essence of what they mean to say_, _rather than going around and around as they try to get at what it is but never **quite **get it. . Hard! But anyway, a door has opened for our boys! And oh, InvertedTesticles!Flint is a wonderful thing! They're just too cute! Anyway, I truly hope this has satisfied you guys! _


End file.
